


On the Edge

by Songswald



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Eliza and Alexander start out as an established couple, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Thomas comes in a little later, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songswald/pseuds/Songswald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander and Eliza are one of the most influential couples in DC. When they form a romantic connection with a certain Virginian Secretary of State, will they be able to hold on to their power? Or will Thomas be their undoing? </p><p>Alexander, Eliza, and Thomas - a love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eliza always loved state affairs. 

As long as she can remember, she’s always been good at playing the room. Even as a child when she was brought to these things with her father, she always managed to charm all the politicians and dignitaries. After years of refining her skills, she’s found that to be charismatic all she has to do is inject a bit of honesty - just enough to make them feel like you have a connection, but not so much as to actually give anything away. Yes, she’s always had a knack for getting that concoction just right. And if she’s learned anything the past few years, charm is the single most important ingredient for creating power. 

Presently, she and Alexander descend the steps into a DC New Year’s party, Eliza in a full length silver slip dress and Alexander in a tailored suit and matching tie. They are the “it” couple in politics right now, and no one in the room can pull their eyes away from the stunning pair. With Alexander as the Secretary of the Treasury for Washington’s administration and Eliza one of New York’s senators, they make quite the power couple.  

“Senator Foster and his wife are here tonight. Word on the street is his wife gets a little too talkative if you can get a few drinks into her. Perhaps she might tell you something that will help you  _convince_ her husband to support your education bill?” Alexander’s breath is hot against her ear. The room has gone back to their previous conversations so their exchange goes unnoticed. 

“I heard the same thing,” she whispers back, “and from the looks of things, she’s already on her second drink. Whatever we find out though, I only want to use it as plan B. I expect I can appeal to his conscious this time, and I think that information will prove useful later.”

They shake hands and smile at a few important people before they make their way over to Senator Foster. Theodore Foster is a moderate Republican from Rhode Island, he isn’t someone who votes entirely along party lines, and his campaigns are funded primarily by family money and oil companies so he has no reason not to support her legislation. However, after he supported the Democrat's campaign finance reform bill a few months ago, she suspects he’s been pressured by party leaders to stop fraternizing with the enemy, hence her current struggle. 

“Theodore! How lovely to see you,” Eliza goes in for a handshake as Alexander approaches his wife, “Ah, Rose, you look delightful this evening." 

“Eliza, Alexander, you’re both looking well,” Theodore espouses. He’s relatively new to the game, he’s only been a senator for two years, which makes him an easy target and a useful ally.  

“Well you know after that weekend in the Bahamas, we’ve been spoiled with relaxation. Or at least I have, this one,” Eliza places a hand around Alexander’s waist and he wraps an answering arm over her shoulder, “smuggled his work onto the islands with him!”

They all laugh, and Alexander makes his move, “Rose, Theodore, let me go refresh your drinks.”

“Oh no that won’t be necessary we’ve had quite enough tonight.” 

Alexander is charming as ever as he suavely responds, “I won’t have any of that. Really it’s no trouble.” He takes the relinquished glass and walks across the room to the bar. Eliza continues making small talk as she watches Alexander get the drinks. She thanks God the Fosters have their backs to the bar when she sees Alexander pour an extra shot into Rose’s drink. 

“Here we are,” Alexander hands out the drinks. He gives Eliza a glass of slightly yellowed bubbling liquid, holding another identical flute in his hand. To a passerby, it would look like they’re partaking in the festivities, drinking their share of the champaign. But Eliza knows even before she brings the glass to her lips that it’ll be nothing but sparkling cider. She and Alexander are too smart to let their minds be blurred by alcohol, especially when they’re out hunting. 

Alexander and Eliza watch as Rose sips at her drink, and when the time is right Alexander addresses Rose, “We should let these two talk. May I have this dance?”

She agrees, and Eliza watches Alexander guide her to the dance floor.  

“Quite the man your husband is. Where did you find him again?”

Eliza clenched her jaw. She’s having trouble distinguishing Foster’s intentions; is this a genuine compliment, a backhanded jab at her Alexander’s humble beginnings, or an indication that Foster knows what she and her husband are trying to do and is planning on releasing whatever he knows about Alexander’s family if they ever breathed a word of any dirt they find out about him after tonight. Eliza chuckles to herself. As if Alexander’s background isn’t the oldest news in DC. His childhood was already dragged into the public eye when he himself made his first run for congress. Foster truly is new at this.  

In case she’s being paranoid, she responds kindly, “Yes I find him suitable. I believe we met at an event quite similar to this, oh what was it now, maybe 19 years ago.”

“Hmm. Rose and I actually met in a similar way…” 

While Foster continues what is sure to be a boring, and more importantly, useless story, Eliza does a mental recalculation. So he was just being nice. Sometimes she forgets that not everyone here is playing the same game she and Alexander are. When she hears a lull in Foster’s story she asks, “Isn’t Rose a teacher at Franklin?" 

“Yes,” Foster responds and Eliza can practically feel the adoration in his voice when he talks about his wife, “third grade.”

“I’m sure a few extra thousand could go a long way at a school like that -“

Foster turns towards her, “Eliza I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. You know I’m still being reamed by the Republicans for supporting the Johnson-Reed Act. I’m under strict orders to follow the party’s lead on this one.” 

“Oh, come on Theodore. If you support us on this, we’ll let you make all the goddamn noise you want pushing back against the gun restriction bill we have coming up. Lord knows it would take a skilled surgeon to revive that piece of legislation. If you put on a good show, it might even get you a little pull with the NRA during your next election. Besides, it’s the right thing to do. Think about all the poor inner-city kids who’ll finally get textbooks made in the last decade.”

“I don’t know Eliza…”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ve got a friend at Fox who owes me a favor. You support this, I’ll get you ten minutes on prime time to scream about the gun bill and preach states rights all you want. That should keep party leadership and your base happy.”

He looks at her warily for a moment before responding. “Done. No wonder you went into politics.”

Eliza lets the ghost of a smile permeate her carefully presented air of indifference. The song ends and she spots Alexander and Rose making their way back to their respective spouses. Alexander kisses Rose’s hand. “Always a pleasure.”

Rose smiles and blushes.  _Interesting_ Eliza notes. “Well Senator, I’m glad we’ve had this chat. The Democrats will be pleased to hear you’re on board."  

“Always great doing business with you Eliza.” 

With that, the Hamilton’s politely depart from the Foster’s company.

Between greeting other politicians with whom they have varying degrees of friendship, Eliza leans into Alexander and murmurs, “What did you find out?” 

They run into a few more people before they’re alone enough for Alexander to answer. “Apparently, he slept with someone else a few months ago, and it’s put quite the rift in their relationship.”

“Who did he sleep with?” 

“I don’t know. All I could get out of her without being suspicious was that the other woman is here tonight.” 

“So she’s someone important. Or married to someone important.”

“Yes. And from the looks of things, she was rather keen at getting back at him. In any case, I think we’ve done quite well tonight, Eliza. Shall we dance?”

Eliza looks up at her husband. Her heart still flutters at the sight of him like it did the first time they met. To many, their marriage may seem like it was born out of connivence; he married her for the money, she married him for the political power. But none of that is the truth, and no one who sees them together can deny the genuine affection they hold for each other. 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

He pulls her into the middle of the room just as a tango is starting. Despite her extensive high society social education, this is one type of dance Alexander had to teach her. They had just gotten married and bought their first apartment, a tiny one bedroom in the poor part of manhattan. They were sitting in the middle of their one room, the radio blaring in the background while she worked on some law school assignment and Alexander paid their bills for the month. Suddenly, the tango came on over the radio and Alexander abandoned his work to pull her to her feet. He showed her the moves, and they both burst out in giggles when, during an overzealous attempt to teach her, he tripped over his own feet.

That’s one of Eliza’s fondest memories. Now they’ve done it so many times they’re practically experts at it, but Eliza always thinks of that first night in their apartment in Harlem. As they start to dance, Eliza feels more than a few eyes on them. From the crowd, she spots Thomas Jefferson, ex-Congressman from Virginia and current Secretary of State. 

“I’m suddenly reminded of another task we set out to complete tonight,” Eliza breathes into Alexander’s ear, “As I recall, you also planned to make amends with a certain cabinet member who’s vote you require to pass your financial plan.”

Alexander rolls his eyes. Alexander had indeed agreed that the task had to be completed tonight, but only after much persuasion from Eliza. “He’s just so arrogant! I hate him, Betsey. He’s not going to say yes anyway.”

“If we press the right buttons he will. Come on let’s go, just like we planned.”

As Eliza physically drags Alexander off the dance floor like a petulant child, Eliza purposefully makes eye contact with Jefferson. She pulls Alexander directly towards him, making no pretense about why they stopped dancing. This was planned; when they were plotting their game strategy for the evening, they agreed she’d be good cop, and he’d be bad. Not that the roles were that forced. When it came to Thomas, Alexander had a hard time of putting his emotions to the side for the benefit of getting what they wanted. 

“Thomas!”

“Eliza!”

Thomas is dressed abominably as usual. He’s adorning a burnt siena velvet suit, of which the pants are slightly too short, likely in an effort to be edgy. She pulls him into a hug and from the corner of her eye she can see Alexander practically scowling. 

“So good to see you again,” Eliza says enthusiastically. She looks over at her husband, as if expecting him to great Thomas in a similar manner. This was planned as well. Alexander plays his part well, arms crossed, head down, the perfect image of a pouting toddler. 

Alexander grunts out a greeting, “Jefferson.”

“Hamilton.” Thomas is cold as ice. From the corner of her eye, Eliza notices a minute change in her husband's body language. He still has the petulant child act going, but it’s as if he’s almost comfortable in this familiar role of animosity towards Thomas. 

“Alexander, play nice.” She makes a show of rolling our eyes. “Anyway Thomas,  _we_ wanted to invited you over for dinner Friday night. Maybe resolve some of the bad blood between you two.” 

Eliza catches Alexander’s staged look of anger and betrayal when she invites him over. Thomas’s eyes briefly flicker to her husband before looking back at her. “I would just love to, thank you Eliza. At least one Hamilton is civil.” 

The last part is spit back at Alexander. He pulls a face. 

“Lovely. We’ll expect you at 6 o’clock. I’m sure Alexander will be able to stop by your office to give you our address.” 

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Thomas walks away, hands in his pockets and a smug grin pressed firmly on his face. 

Eliza smiles. He’s so easy to play. Alexander turns to her. “That was torturous Betsey.”  

“I’m sorry sweetie. But you know as well as I do that if you’d appeared to have been on board with the dinner, he never would have agreed. He has to think that by accepting he’d be torturing you. I know it'll be dreadful, but it's for the good of the country right?” She grabs two glasses of champaign from a passing waiter, and raises one as a peace offering.

He takes it and sighs. “For the good of the country.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry guys, we'll get to that E rating eventually. As always, comments are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

As is customary for them, when Eliza and Alexander return home they change into more comfortable clothes before sitting in their shared office, each working on various projects. Eliza lounges in her comfort support chair, legs criss cross with fuzzy sock clad feet tucked under her and a blanket strewn haphazardly over her lap. Both she and Alexander have pulled their hair up for the night, and he sits in a similar position at his desk next to her. She taps away at her keyboard, working on emailing back some of her fundraising contacts. She occasionally turns to Alexander to read him a line of this or that to see if he thinks she’s too obviously trying to get into their pockets or if she’s hitting all the points she needs to. Meanwhile, he drafts a press release for Washington and consults with her on similar issues. 

Alexander pushes against his desk to turn his chair towards Eliza. “How does this sound: ‘The refusal of Republicans in the senate to look past their partisan interests to pass the new budget last month shows how disconnected they are with the American people; instead of fighting for the government employees who depend on their continued salaries to get them through the month, they instead chose to shut down the government in an effort to wage an idealogical war for the benefit of to their rich donors who’s influence solely determines their policy agendas.’” 

Eliza leans back in her chair while she listens. “Not bad. It’s scathing, but subtle - certainly an improvement over what we had earlier. It still feels too heavy though. People aren’t going to put in the effort to wade through something that dense. If we want them to pay attention, we have to make it easy for them. Maybe we should come up with a catchy tagline to put in somewhere, you know, give the evening news and miscellaneous readers some sound bite they can plaster across every form of social media. Also there’s an ambiguous ‘their’ at the end of that sentence.” 

Alexander sighs and rubs his temples. The time is nearing midnight and Eliza finds herself stifling a yawn. She walks over to Alexander’s work station and seats herself sideways across his lap. Softly taking one of his hands in hers, tracing the lines on his palm, she says, “How about we call it a night. We can worry about what Washington’s official address on the shutdown will be tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Alexander lays his other hand on top of hers and kisses her cheek. “Not that it matters. I’m sure whatever I bring in tomorrow Jefferson will find fault with. He may win this one, too. Washington seems to be taking his side more often than not these days. I think Washington’s getting antsy about his reelection coming up nest year.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to handle Jefferson,” Eliza consuls before starting to kiss Alexander’s neck distractingly. She stops to gently suck on a particularly responsive spot near his collarbone. Alexander lets out a soft moan and she continues her efforts, pausing only to say, “You’re a force to be reckoned with Alexander, don’t forget that.” 

Eliza has now moved on to kissing her way up to his jaw and around his ear. Alexander continues, “I mean it would be one thing if we just had a difference of opinion. But I swear the man will change his point of view just to - oh that’s nice - cause, ah, problems in the cabinet and -”

Eliza finally reaches his mouth and pulls him into a lingering kiss. She pulls herself up so she’s now straddling him, moving her hands to rest on his chest. Her fingers play with the hem of his shirt and she lightly traces the skin just above his waistband. She feels his lips, soft and familiar against hers, and she gently traces them with her tongue. Alexander surges forward into the kiss, his hands now making their way under her t-shirt and resting against her ribs. Eliza pulls off her shirt and guides his hands to her breasts. She returns to their kiss and fervently grinds her hips against his, feeling his growing erection pressing back up against her in the most satisfying way.

“Fuck, Betsey, do that again,” he moans.

Eliza smiles against his mouth. She pulls back a bit and they simply breath in the same air for a moment before Alexander starts again: “But really the thing that gets me is that he’s just so cocky! He claims to be a ‘man of the people’ but he reeks of aristocracy! Did you see that awful suit he was wearing tonight? I bet that cost the tax payers a few bucks. He’s just such a hypocrite, Eliza! Everything he does rubs me the wrong way.”

Eliza collapses into giggles against his shoulder. Here she is half naked and her husband is taking about Thomas Jefferson. Eliza’s no statistician, but she can pick up on a trend when she sees one. 

She collects herself just as Alexander is yelping, “Eliza! Why are you laughing at me?” 

Eliza looks at him with doting eyes for a few seconds before taking a risk and saying, “He is rather attractive you know.”

Alexander looks taken aback. “I guess if you’re into that whole goofy, hipster, my-mom-dressed-me-until-I-was-eighteen look. I mean purely objectively he does have a nice bone structure. And nice eyes. I suppose he’s okay to look at, but then he opens his mouth and I get this unexplainable compulsion to punch him in the face.” 

Eliza looks at her husband evaluatively. Sometimes he’s so transparent. She likes that they’ve both grown to be able to see things in each other before the other realizes it themselves. As much as she’d like to push him further on this particular topic, this is a conclusion he’s going to have to reach on his own. 

They haven’t shared their bed with someone else since John died over a decade ago, and it’s a delicate topic. They’ve talked about it a few times, considering various people over the years, but nothing ever came from those initial conversations. She’s been wondering, given how Alexander talks about Thomas, if there might be something there. She’s had her suspicions for some time now, and she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to starting something with him if Alexander wanted it too. Although they’re usually very open with each other, she recognizes this is likely something Alexander is going to have to sort through by himself.

But maybe she can guide him in the right direction. 

She looks him in the eye imploringly. “Level with me Alexander. You’re telling me you don’t find him even a little bit desirable?”

“No! Absolutely not! I mean…” After another withering gaze from Eliza letting him know his adamant denial isn’t fooling anyone, he trails off. If he truly doesn’t feel that way she’ll accept it, but his answer doesn’t feel genuine to her. Alexander’s thumb absentmindedly worries little circles into her hip as he mulls over her question. Eliza doesn’t move, barely even breaths. This moment feels too fragile, so breakable, and she’s worried if she falters a fraction of an inch it’ll be ruined. “Well my first inclination was to totally deny it, but perhaps that in itself is an indication of something. You’re not suggesting an arrangement similar to what we had with…” 

“I’m not saying we should go up to Thomas tomorrow asking if he wants to spend the night with us, but I think we should explore it a little bit. We’d be remise not to discuss the fact that might be something there, Alexander.” 

“Okay but with John it was safe. We trusted him. I wouldn’t trust Jefferson if he swore to God on his dead mother’s grave while holding a bible.”

“But that’s not to say you couldn’t grow to trust him. Yes, I think it would certainly be different with Thomas. But that doesn’t mean it could’t be great.” Eliza traces patterns against his chest and feels him shiver under her touch. 

“I don’t know. He’s just so despicable Betsey.” 

“No one says we have to make this decision right now. I just want us to be on the same page about this. And who knows, it’s possible he wouldn’t even be interested.” Given the way he was staring at my ass in that dress tonight I don’t think that’s going to be a problem though.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Alexander laughs sardonically, “It certainly would make smoothing things over between us a lot easier. Without him fighting me every step of the way maybe I could even get something accomplished before Washington is out of office!”

Eliza had thought of that particular benefit to this arrangement; it would’ve been impossible to evaluate the situation without at least considering it. While that was an attractive fringe benefit, it certainly wasn’t her driving motive for suggesting it to Alexander.

“Look at you being all openminded,” she says, “But I seem to remember we were in the middle of something earlier. Hmm. What could that have been?” She exaggeratedly mocks trying to remember their earlier activities.

“I think I might be able to refresh your memory,” Alexander says, leaning in to kiss her again in a way that can only be described as furious. Eliza thinks to herself that she’ll never get tired of kissing Alexander. They may have been married for most of her adult life, but there’s something comfortable in having someone she can trust and rely on in every capacity. 

As soon as things start getting heated again Alexander pulls back. “Now what do you say we take this,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and pitches his voice lower for effect, “into the bedroom.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eliza laughs. 

“You love me anyway.” 

She gets up and follows him, her hand reaching out for his. “Be careful. For better or worse only applies to things like if you’re dying of cancer or if you’re actually a prolific serial killer. I don’t know if our wedding vows can withstand your awful sense of humor.” 

“I would hope so. It might offend my Catholic roots if we were to get a divorce. Just imagine the scandal, Betsey. Oh and,” Alexander strikes a pose against the doorframe of their bedroom, “you wouldn’t have access to this hot bod.” 

“You’ve got me there,” she deadpans, following him into their room. She turns to close the door behind them and no sooner does turn around than she find herself pressed up against it, Alexander’s mouth back on hers. His body hotly melds against hers, pushing her back into the cold wooden door. Desire shoots through her as she takes in his disheveled state; hair a mess, clothes askew, eyes dilated, and mouth red with that just kissed look. Eliza lightly pulls at his hair, and he sighs into her mouth. She loves how responsive he is to everything, always so vocal. She rolls her hips against his, reveling in the sharp pleasure of it. Alexander gives her an answering moan and she gives him a little push to indicate he should start moving back towards their bed. 

They make their way over, pulling off articles of clothing between kisses until they finally collapse naked on their bed. Alexander lies back, and Eliza sits astride his torso, kissing his neck, down his chest, applying just enough pressure to leave little red marks where no one but the two of them will see. She torturously kisses hotly down his body until she reaches his erect cock. Alexander raises his hips a fraction of an inch, clearly anticipating her following her previous line of movement. She diverts, starts kissing his thighs, and Alexander lets out a needy moan.

“God, Eliza… I just want… can you…”

She smiles. “Use your words Alexander.”

“Fuck I just want something, anything.”

Eliza takes mercy on him and reaches down to give Alexander’s hard cock, pre-come already leaking form the tip, a few strokes. Alexander’s head falls back into the pillows as he keens. 

Breathlessly, Alexander whispers to her, “Fuck, Eliza, you looked so fucking hot tonight it was all I could do not to take you right there. I’m sure every man in that room wished he were with you. It should be illegal to look so sinful.”

Eliza abandons her efforts with his cock, and he whines at the temporary lack of her, but she quickly moves further until she rests right up against his cock. Alexander’s hands have moved from their resting spot on her hips to cup her breasts. He runs his fingers over her nipples, enjoying her little pleasure-filled reactions. She grinds up against his cock, moving back a bit so she can move her clit against it. It feels amazing, sending quick jolts of ecstasy running through her belly. 

“Jesus, Betsey, if you keep doing that I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Well we can’t have that can we?” she says as she positions herself above his cock. She slowly sinks down onto him, and his hands grasp at the sheets as he watches her. She lets out a sigh at the gratifying fullness, and tentatively contracts around him. 

After she’s adjusted to the intense feeling, she starts moving up and down on his cock, angling her hips so that he hits just the right spot with each thrust. The noises they’re making are practically obscene, and she leans in for a quick kiss to stifle yet another moan lest their neighbors complain. Her breasts bounce with her movements, and Alexander looks like he’s about to pass out at the sight of her. She fucks herself roughly on him, and she knows she’ll be able feel the lingering soreness tomorrow morning. 

Eliza runs her nails down his chest before moaning, “Babe you feel so good inside me. I could stay like this all day.”

Alexander reacts with a smug look, and he reaches down to start circling her clit, his calluses rubbing against her in the best way. Suddenly, Eliza is struck by an idea. She leans down a little to get closer to him before whispering seductively in his ear, “I wonder how Thomas looks when he comes. Do you think he’s a screamer? Or maybe he doesn’t like to be loud, maybe he’s the type that’ll stifle his moans with kisses and bites while he comes inside of you. I bet he’s great with his mouth though. How do you think it feels to have that clever tongue going down on you, Alexander?” She can feel him getting close, and she hears a sharp intake of breath at her words. 

“Do you like the idea of his mouth around your hard, needy cock? He probably knows exactly how to keep you on the edge, using just the right amount of tongue and teeth to hold you there, satisfying you for hours. And when he finally lets you come, I bet he’ll swallow, obscenely wiping his mouth afterwards, his self satisfied smirk resurfacing. What do you think Alexander? Should we test that theory out?”

At that, she feels him spasm and he comes inside her, breathily repeating her name. She follows him over the edge, undulating around him. Eliza throws her head back, savoring the sordid feeling of his come inside her. She bounces up and down a few more times as they both tentatively hold on to the last of their respective orgasms. 

With a satisfied sigh Eliza rolls over onto her back so she lies next Alexander. She rests her head on his chest and traces patterns on his belly while he serenely cards his fingers through her hair.

Contentment still thrumming through her system, Eliza manages to get out, “So… Jefferson…”

“Shut up.”

She laughs. “Don’t forget you have to give him our address at work sometime this week.”

Alexander rolls over to bury his face in a pillow and groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so slow at updating. Hope you all liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

Eliza’s patent leather black heels sink into the worn carpet outside of Alexander’s office. 

His secretary, Ben, sits in his desk frantically talking on the phone and trying to take notes on whatever information he’s receiving. Behind her the rest of the heads of the treasury department are diligently working. The Assistant Secretary of Public Affairs waves at her as he walks by, and she waves back with a smile. 

Ben finally notices her presence and gives her a smile as he waves for her to sit down. In the process, he knocks over his thermos, spilling sugary coffee over all the papers in front of him. He stammers out a, “I’m going to have to call you back,” over the phone before hanging up to deal with the mess. Eliza gets there first, already pulling tissues out of the holder and pressing them on the files that are looking a little worse for wear.

Tall, gangly, and relatively young, Ben is hopelessly infatuated with Alexander, bless his heart. He’s a sweet kid, and he has a sort of adoration for both the Hamiltons that makes him fiercely loyal. It’s cute, Eliza thought.

_He’s like a puppy that follows you around but doesn’t know what to do with itself once you actually give it attention._

She and Alexander always had a kind of soft spot for him as well. In addition to being one of the few people in DC they actually trust, they consider him a kind of surrogate for the children they never had.

Eliza finishes helping him clean up his spill before takes a seat in one of the surrounding plush chairs.

Ben sits back, quickly fixing his slightly disheveled appearance before asking, “Mrs. Hamilton what can I do for you on this lovely afternoon?”

“Oh nothing, Alexander and I are just having lunch at Rio’s today. I expect he’ll be out soon. How’s your Lucy doing?” 

“Oh much better. The vet said she should be back to normal in no time. It was rocky for a while though - apparently this particular operation can be very risky to perform on dogs.”

Eliza makes a sympathetic noise back before changing the subject. “Is that a new tie? The green matches your eyes. It’s very handsome.” 

Ben’s cheeks color. “Yes it is. In fact, I got it from that little place downtown that Mr. Hamilton - hang on let me get this.” 

Alexander walks out and Ben promptly fumbles the phone he was trying to pick up, apparently frazzled by his boss’s sudden appearance. “Mr. Hamilton, your wife is here for your lunch appointment.” 

“Yes, thank you Ben. Did you talk to Joan about my issues with the OFR study they’re starting next cycle?”

“Yes, sir. We were just speaking and I think we’re almost done ironing out the details.”

Alexander nods appraisingly. “And she’s going to make the corrections?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll forward you a copy of the newest proposal once we’re done.”

“Good boy. Excellent job Ben.” He claps a hand on the boy’s back and Eliza can’t help but notice Ben’s bashful smile at that. Alexander turns to Eliza. “Ready to go?”

“Yes let’s head out. It was nice seeing you again Ben.”

“You as well Mrs. Hamilton.”

Once they’re safely in the elevator Eliza turns to her husband. She allows an amused smile to slip onto her face before saying, “It’s probably not very kind to toy with him like that.” 

“Oh, as if you aren’t just as bad. I could hear you from my office you know. ‘Oh, Ben, is that a new tie? It’s very dashing.’” He imitates her voice for the last part and they both burst out laughing at the high pitched attempt. 

“Okay, first, I said handsome not dashing. There’s a difference. And point taken. Maybe we both need to be a little more discriminating with our behavior.” 

“He just makes it so easy, and it’s nice to feel worshipped sometimes. But I suppose you’re right. As always.” He shoots her an adoring look and she smiles back at him.

“Well,” she says, reaching for his hand, “I’m not sure about that, but together we seem to get things right most of the time.”

“That was so cheesy.” 

She laughs. “In any case, I made our reservations for one o’clock, so we should hurry if we’re going to make it on time,” she says. 

They walk the few blocks to the restaurant in a comfortable silence. While not quite fine dining, Rio’s is still one of their favorite haunts due to it’s lack of midday crowd and privacy from eavesdropping. They’re not exactly famous, but there’s always someone who’s friends with someone who works for another guy who’s in the same department as an adversary they’re not exactly on great terms with. One can never be too careful. 

They’re greeted by name at the door and led to their usual table in the back, secluded from the restaurant’s other midday customers which consist of an elderly man talking to himself in a booth, a middle-aged man in khakis and a wrinkled shirt eating alone, and finally a table of four professionally dressed women in their mid thirties who are likely on their lunch break as well. 

They sit and Eliza asks, “How’s your day been sweetie?” 

“Good. Ben finally taught that new intern, Henry Reid, how to make copies correctly so I don’t have those black lines on my documents anymore which is exciting. I swear to God, it involves pushing three buttons. The kid’s such a scatterbrain he shouldn’t be allowed out of the house. I’m going to see if I can get him moved departments.” 

“Oh yes, I was wondering how long Congressman Reid’s son would last. But won’t the Congressman be upset about you transferring Henry?”

“I’m sure if we spin it right it won’t be a problem. I’ll make the call personally, tell him his son is a great employee.“

“That he has such a bright future ahead of him.”

“Really has the potential to be something some day.”

“But there’s just not as much room for advancement in this department.”

“I’ll be sad not to work with him anymore.” 

“But you’d hate to stifle all that talent.”

“Really it wouldn’t be fair to hold him down.”

“Downright selfish, I’d say.” 

“All the while, never mentioning the fact that his son is actually an incompetent twit and will be lucky to hold on to this next job for more than two weeks!”

They clink their glasses together in a toast just as the waiter arrives to take their order. They get their usuals, the spinach enchilada for Eliza and the extra spicy carne fajitas for Alexander, and once the waiter has retreated back beyond hearing distance they resume their conversation. 

“You have an appointment with Hercules tomorrow right?” Eliza asks, taking a sip of water.  

Alexander lowers his voice, despite the relatively low risk of detection, “Yes. I imagine he’ll have some information for me from John Jay’s headquarters. I suppose it isn’t of vital importance what he’s up to now given we don’t even know if he’s who the Republicans are going to run. We still have the entirety of the primaries to get through first, but it never hurts to have a preemptive look at what strategies they’re going to use.” 

“I agree. Especially with matchup polls between Washington and Jay looking so close. It’s a shame George won’t be running against Adams. I mean I guess it’s still possible, but when Adam’s is lagging thirty points behind Jay in the polls, it seems somewhat unlikely. You could’ve steamrolled right over him. John Jay, though, he’ll be a little tougher. He’s not afraid of playing dirty.”

“I recall. Did you forget I was in the New York House with him for two years before I went on to the federal House? I did not enjoy our time together. He ran as a moral majority type Republican back then, and he seems to be characterizing himself in the same way this election season.” 

“That’s right, I’d completely forgotten you knew him. That was so long ago. I remember when you used to come home complaining about that ass Jay instead of Jefferson.”

“Ah, to be young again.”

The waiter brings them their food, and they thank him. Eliza realizes she doesn’t know him; he must be new. Given how often they come here, they’ve become well acquainted with the staff.

They take a few minutes to simply enjoy the meal before Eliza broaches the topic that’s been on her mind all day. “Speaking of Jefferson, have you had a chance to talk to him about Friday yet?” 

Alexander leans back and sighs as if expecting this question. “No, I haven’t had the chance.”

“Sweetie, it’s Wednesday, you see him every day, and I told him you’d give him our address. It’s going to be weird if you don’t stop by soon, like we’re unsure about inviting him. Regardless of if anything,” she lowers her voice and mutters the next phrase, “ _happens_ with him, we did originally make this appointment to make amends with him. Like it or not he’s powerful and we need him on our side.”

Alexander runs his hands through his hair. “I know Betsey. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been putting it off just because I don’t want to do it.”

“Why don’t you want to do it? Friday doesn’t have to be anything more than political rivals attempting to make amends.”

“That’s the thing; I think,” Alexander pauses for a moment as if to prepare himself and fixes his gaze on his wife, “I think I want it to mean more than that.” 

Eliza’s heart lurches in her chest and she feels a faint smile flicker across her face. But she has to be sure first. “You’re positive this is what you want?” 

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know why, but I have a good feeling about this.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You’re going to think this is kind of silly but -“

“I never think you’re silly.”

“Well yesterday, we were in a cabinet meeting, and we were discussing impactful tax policy going forward on what could be, potentially, Washington’s last year in office. So, we were talking about ways he could frame a tax increase on the richest Americans without the conservatives totally spinning it out of proportion. And I told him it wasn’t a smart move, given the election coming up and the fact that the Republicans are going to have a field day with it, but you know Washington, he’s always been more concerned with doing what’s right than capturing votes. So I say, ‘Sir, if you absolutely have to pass this legislation, it needs to happen now while the Republicans are still gearing up to tear each other apart and no one is paying attention to what the administration is doing. In fact, I think it would be smart to keep this in our back pockets for the next few weeks and wait so we can announce it right when one of the Republicans does something outrageous, letting us fly under the radar and -‘“

“Alexander, I want to hear more about this later, but right now you’re rambling.”  

“Oh, right. So anyway, you know what Jefferson says?”

“What?”

“He looks me in the eye and says, ‘I agree with Hamilton, sir.’ And I don’t know, in that moment it felt like maybe there was hope that on some level he and I could work together, that I could trust him in some capacity. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s still frustrating as hell, and I know this is all happening so fast, but I feel like maybe there’s a possibility there. I don’t want to miss it.” 

“Alexander, I’m so glad you feel that way. Okay then, that settles that -“

“Wait,” Alexander stops her, apparently having some concerns of his own, “I don’t think this is the case, but I need to be sure that you’re not just doing this because you think it might be what I want.”

Eliza is quick to answer. “Absolutely not. I mean, I’m certainly looking forward to watching you two, _together_ ,” Eliza hears a sharp intake of breath coming from Alexander’s side of the table, “but separate from that, I feel like Thomas and I have a connection as well. Remember after his wife died a few years ago? We talked a lot and, I don’t know, it felt like there was something.”

“Wow, okay. A few weeks ago hearing you say you and Jefferson have a connection might have tempted me to douse myself in kerosene and light myself on fire, but now hearing it’s just… kind of hot, actually.”

They stupidly grin at each other from across the table, a little giddy. Eliza runs her stocking covered foot up and down his leg under the table affectionately. “Okay then. We’re really doing this.” 

“We’re really doing this.” Alexander sighs. “I still have no idea how we would even begin to approach Jefferson with this idea.”

“I think our usual approach with him will hold true for this as well; we make him think he came up with it first. All we have to do is get him to consciously realize he wants us.”

“Well that shouldn’t be too hard. We are the ‘hottest couple in DC’ after all.” 

“We have to be subtle about it though. He can’t know what we’re trying to do. Although maybe that type of flirting might be a little too tricky for you; you are, after all, trying to keep up appearances that you have no other feelings for the man besides unadulterated hatred.” 

He knows she’s trying to bait him. He walks into it anyway. “Is that a challenge, Betsey?”

“It may be.”

“You’re on.” 

 

***

 

After taking care of the bill, the Hamiltons start walking back to Alexander’s office together. However, they take a small detour from their usual path to stop off at a certain Thomas Jefferson’s office.  

Walking up to his office, Eliza feels a slight bout of jitters run through her. What if she’s misread Thomas’s actions towards her, and he doesn’t actually feel anything besides hatred and indifference towards them? What if this isn’t really what Alexander wants, but he thinks it will make her happy? What if word of this whole thing makes its way around DC and both her and Alexander’s careers are ruined? 

_Snap out of it_. This isn’t who she is. She is calm. She is fearless. She goes after what she wants without inhibition. She doesn’t fail. 

Besides, they have a plan. 

They’re sure to arrive a good half hour before Jefferson’s receptionist’s lunch break ends. Eliza unbuttons her shirt a little too. It’s still on the safe side of appropriate, but far enough that it brings up a certain suggestion if the idea is already there. 

Eliza grounds herself. She’s been playing these games since she was a teenager. She knows what she’s doing. 

Besides, it’s not as if they’re doing anything radical today. They agreed on subtly, which means they have to start small. Dip their toes in the water per se. 

She knocks lightly on the door before pulling Alexander down for a small kiss. It has to look natural, comfortable, like a politician kissing their spouse after a big win, but with a slight edge to it. 

Thomas takes a few moments, but he finally appears in the doorway. Eliza sees him from out of the tiny sliver of her eye she has open, but as per their plan, she doesn’t stop. They kiss for a few more seconds before pulling apart, Alexanders teeth dragging at her lip as he pulls away.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Thomas’s crisp southern drawl rings out loud and clear. Eliza puts a hand over her mouth and looks down, as if embarrassed to be caught in such a public show of affection, both her and Alexander looking slightly disheveled. She hazards a quick glance up and she sees Jefferson is, as always, dressed gaudily with an enduring grin plastered on his face. And perhaps she’s just imagining it, but does he also look a little affected by their display?

She sees Alexander from the corner of her eye, looking just as embarrassed as her. He’s even managed to make his cheeks blush, whether from their kiss or because he’s genuinely flustered at having been caught in a vulnerable position by Jefferson, she doesn’t know. 

But damn, if they hadn’t gone into politics, they could have been outstanding actors.  

Alexander clears his throat, before saying bashfully, “Jefferson, may we come in.”

Thomas laughs, clearly enjoying the power imbalance of the situation. “Oh, why not. You’ve already seemed to make yourself at home.”

The Hamiltons sit in the uncomfortable chairs Thomas has set out in front of his desk. Eliza, unnoticed by the group, pushes hers a little bit closer to Alexander’s while Thomas pours three glasses of scotch from a little tray he has at the side of the room. He brings them over to his desk and sits down. Eliza takes a small sip for appearances, but otherwise her and Alexander’s glasses go untouched.  

“What can I help you with today?” Thomas addresses the question to Eliza, clearly a tactic to annoy Alexander.

“Oh nothing important. My husband and I,” she places a hand on Alexander’s knee at this, “just wanted to confirm you’ll be joining us Friday night?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. What kind of wine should I bring?”

“Well we always enjoy a nice zinfandel, but of course I’m sure whatever you have will be fine,” Alexander says. Thomas looks over at them curiously. Eliza’s hand has been slowly inching up Alexander’s thigh as the conversation progressed, to the point that it’s almost indecent. She notices Thomas’s gaze wander to where her hand is placed and he openly stares for a few moments. 

“Great,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “I mean, uh, yeah great.” 

“Here let me get your our address,” Alexander says. He uncaps one of the pens from Thomas’s desk with his teeth and holds the cap between his lips while he writes down the address. Eliza leans down as if to check and make sure he’s doing it right, leaning forward enough for her earlier staging of her shirt to be put to use.  

After Alexander’s done, he looks up at Thomas for a moment. They hold each other’s gaze for a split second before Thomas’s eyes flicker back to Eliza, glancing down for a fraction of a second at her breasts before pointedly looking up as if upset that there is apparently no where in his office he can look that is safe.  

“Well, we look forward to seeing you then,” Alexander says, and Thomas just nods, perhaps not trusting his voice just yet. 

“We’ll see ourselves out,” Eliza says when Thomas doesn’t get up. 

That spurs Thomas into action. “Oh, right, of course.” 

He quickly makes his way to the door to hold it open for them. “I can’t wait,” he says, looking at both of them meaningfully as they leave. Eliza notices his eyes jump to her shirt again when he doesn’t think she’ll notice. 

_God, he’s worse than Alexander was when we first met._

With one of Alexander’s hands on Eliza’s shoulder and a responding arm wrapped around Alexander’s waist, the Hamiltons depart.  

As soon as they’re in the elevator, they look at each other and grin.

_That was easy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I've been traveling a lot and trying to get caught up on everything in my life and just busy in general. As always let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long friends! Happy reading.

Hercules Mulligan’s shop was unmarked from the outside and accessible only by recommendation and a key code given when one makes an appointment. This stringent security wasn’t necessarily to keep people out, but rather to keep information in. Hercules was the best in the business at both clothes fitting and spying. If Eliza had to guess, she’d venture that Hercules is ex-CIA. She would say he’s current, but she had a feeling the United States government frowns upon agents doing freelance jobs. 

She’d simply ask Hercules, but she’s afraid it might be I’d-tell-you-but-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you type thing.

Hercules’s business goes like this: his advertisement happens not with TV spots, but in person at exclusive parties and events. His impeccable work and his reputation for discretion attract high ranking officials and their less discriminating workers who come to be fitted for formalwear. He makes small talk and attempts to finds some valuable tidbit or another, and then sells the information to a select few customers for a price. He never overlaps the professions of the specific customers, so as not to provide a conflict of interest that could potentially put him in danger. While he never promises to discover specific facts, he’s good at picking up chatter and relating what he can find out. 

Alexander had started seeing Hercules professionally during Washington’s first campaign for president. Aside from that, Alexander and Hercules went way back. Shortly after Alexander’s mother had died, Hercules had taken Alexander in through the foster system, and after a year he had formally adopted Alexander. Although Washington was initially less than thrilled with the idea of using espionage to bolster his chances of winning, he eventually okayed the plan under the condition that he never knew when, where, or if Alexander was seeing Hercules for work and that all resulting intelligence be kept between Alexander and a few others on Washington’s election staff. Washington maintained he wanted a certain amount of plausible deniability both for in case Mulligan’s actions were ever somehow revealed and for his own peace of mind.

“Mr. Mulligan!”

“Mr. Hamilton!” Alexander and Hercules embrace before Hercules turns to Eliza, “And I see you’ve brought the missus today as well. Eliza, how lovely to see you again.” 

They embrace for a moment before Alexander says, “Yes, Eliza and I both need to be fitted for that high profile fundraising gala Washington is holding next weekend.”

“Ah, of course. Well, Alexander I’ll take you and Eliza why don’t you go with Ms. Cato over there?”

“Actually Hercules, we were rather hoping we could both be fitted by you. We have matters of some delicacy to discuss with you.”

“Of course. Why don’t you two wander over to the usual room and I’ll just go and move around my other appointments?”

Eliza and Alexander walk over to the fitting area and wait. 

“What color should we do this time?” Eliza asks.

“I’ve been thinking seafoam. It looked very nice when we wore it to the White House correspondents’ dinner a few years ago.”

“Of course. That was a rather spectacular color on us. Seafoam it is,” Eliza says. She can’t help but briefly muse about whether or not Thomas will like that color. “What do you think Hercules will have to say about the election?” 

“I’m never sure. Hopefully something about Jay that I can stockpile for the general.”

“Alexander, I can’t help but thinking about something I said yesterday. I’m wondering if maybe it would be possible to get Jay out of the way early and end up facing Ada -“ 

“Shall we begin?” Hercules interrupts, walking into the fitting area. He pulls the curtain around their section to give them the illusion of privacy. 

“Of course,” Alexander says. He looks at Eliza, a clear message transpiring between them. _We’ll finish discussing this later._

It isn’t that they don’t trust Hercules; it’s just much simpler to keep their plans between them. The fewer people who know, the slimmer the chances of them being caught. Besides, he is a spy for a living and while they know he’s on their side, there’s always a chance things could turn. It’s never a good idea to arm someone with the ammunition to destroy you. 

“I’ve taken the liberty of putting together some preliminary designs for you both. I think you’ll find them to your satisfaction,” Hercules says. He begins pulling up outlines before Eliza waives him off.

“I’m sure whatever you’ve put together will be fine. We were thinking something relatively low cut, medium length in seafoam for the dress, and of course we’ll need a matching tie too.”

“Right. Alexander about what dress size are you these days?” 

Alexander and Eliza look at him for a moment, unsure if he’s joking. Hercules turns around, cracks a smile, and starts howling laughing, presumably at their expressions. They follow his lead and find themselves laughing as well.

“Hercules you old trickster,” Eliza says, walking over to him so he can start her measurements. 

“You two are too serious, I need to loosen you up a little.” Hercules pulls out his equipment and puts on his glasses. They make him look older and also less like the lethal spy that he is. “So, how are things?”

“Great, great!” Alexander chimes in, “Eliza and I are thinking of adopting a puppy.”

“A puppy? Good God, Alex. When are you two going to find the time to care for a puppy?” Hercules beckons Eliza to move forward slightly, and she stands resolutely still. Hercules continues, “Especially with the both of you working as much as you do.”

“Well, it’s just a preliminary idea for now. Maybe a cat would suit us better?”

“But cats also shed more,” Eliza chimes in.

“Depends on the type. I think a cat would be much better for the two of you though. They have some fucking adorable ones at that shelter downtown.”

“Well, maybe we can look around a little this weekend,” Eliza says.   


“Assuming we’re not otherwise predisposed,” Alexander responds, giving Eliza a look. Eliza shoots him a half smile back, knowing they’re both thinking the same thing. They’d talked about it briefly that morning; if all goes well, Thomas should be staying past dinner the next night, and hopefully into the weekend as well. 

Hercules discretely looks between them. Eliza suspect he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, ever the spy. She doesn’t suppose he’s going to relate any of his suspicions to anyone else, even if he did have any idea what’s going on, but she knows his type. He likes to know things regardless of whether or not they’re useful. She’s the same way. 

Alexander is one step ahead of her. “With all that campaign work Washington has going on, I’m doubtful we’ll have any free time on our hands.” He clearly noticed Hercules’s body language as well.

Eliza follows his lead. “Oh yes, and with those fundraising events I have this weekend, there’s no way we’ll have time.”

Hercules continues measuring Eliza, looking slightly placated, although Eliza is unsure if he really buys it. She supposes there’s nothing she can do about it in any case. But she makes a mental note about it.

Alexander, leaning against the wall, says, “Speaking of Washington’s campaign, all the analysts say Jay is the favorite for the Republican nomination.”

“Mhh. It’s only January,” Hercules says cryptically, “A lot can change between now and then.” 

“Yes I suppose so,” Alexander replies, “Still, one can never be too prepared.”

“Well, I haven’t heard much about Jay, but two men from of Adams’s secret service detail were in here a few days ago. Very chatty. Lift, please,” Hercules says, the last part directed at Eliza. She raises her arms.

“Were they now?” Alexander asks, “Talk about anything interesting?”

“Yes, in fact,” Hercules lowers his voice, “You guys know John’s wife, Abigail?”

“I think we’ve met briefly,” Eliza says. 

“Apparently, Adams has been making some trips that these particular agents were doubtful Abigail would approve of. In fact, they claimed they were specifically instructed not to wake Mrs. Adams when they went on these excursions. I believe they said something about a series of late night visits to a Super Eight motel.”

“Well that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Adams could be there for something innocent. He might just being trying to get away from his job or the campaign trail,” Alexander spitballs.

“Oh I’m sure. I wasn’t trying to imply Governor Adams would ever be up to anything unsavory,” Hercules replies in an attempt to cover himself in case anyone is, by chance, listening in. Even if they were to relate what he said, no one could prove he was doing anything but gossiping while he worked. It was all very by the books.

“Never,” Eliza chimes in.

“Absolutely,” Alexander finishes off. 

“Done. There - that out to be good. Alexander, your turn.” 

Alexander sighs and trades places with Eliza.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be quick - I just have to remeasure a few places on you,” Hercules says. He changes the subject: “Have you talked to Lafayette lately? He hasn’t called in the last few days.” 

Lafayette was taken in by Hercules when he was on exchange year in American as a teen. Only, he didn’t go back. Apparently it’s pretty rare for a kid not to go back from his exchange year, but it does happen. He asked Hercules if he could stay, telling him that his parents had already said yes. Then he called his parents and told them Hercules had approved it and really it was only another two years until he’d be old enough to move there on his own. So, his rich French parents pulled some strings and got his visa extended. 

“Yeah, I saw him at work yesterday. I’ll tell him to call you. He’s dating a new girl, Adrienne. He met her when he was in France visiting his parents.”

“Good. Well tell him I want a call, and also as soon as things with this girl get serious I want to meet her.”

“Will do. They’ve only been dating for a few weeks, but from what I can tell he’s pretty smitten. He comes into work with this silly look on his face. Even Washington’s noticed something’s up.”

“Well I’m glad he’s found someone. He was going through quite the dry spell. Tell me about this Adrienne girl.” 

Alexander proceeds to describe Lafayette’s new flame for the next few minutes while Hercules finishes up with the measurements. Afterwords, Hercules makes a grunt of approval along with a renewed statement about wanting to meet object of his surrogate son’s affections.

The Hamiltons thank Hercules and for all his hard work and make their way to the door. They walk through the parking lot in silence, although both of them know what conversation they’re about to have. They haven’t been in Eliza’s gray Sudan for more than five seconds before Alexander says, “Continue.”

Eliza doesn’t have to ask what he means. She starts the car and backs out of her spot before answering, “As I started saying earlier, I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be smarter to knock out Jay in the primaries. He’s reckless and has the potential to do damage, Alexander. I’m not saying we can’t take him on, but Washington needs to go into his second term with some political capital under his belt to get something meaningful passed. Especially after this tax reform legislation is announced. A fight with Adams will be much less wearing on the administration.”

“That is true. I suppose I could talk to some of my super PAC contacts, see if I can convince them to dedicate some money to campaign against Jay.”

“I thought of that at first too. But I don’t think we should do that. Whatever we arm Adams with might come back to bite us in the ass if he does get the nomination. What if we did something a little bit more… off the record?”

“What’s more off the record than back alley campaign finance?” 

“I’m thinking more along the lines of mutually assured destruction.”

“Ours?”

“No, the Republicans of course.” 

Eliza watches as the realization washes over Alexander’s face. He looks over at her, a glimmer in his eye. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

***

Eliza and Alexander stay up rather late plotting. Their plan is intricate, and it’s going to take a lot of leg work to accomplish. But hopefully, with a little help, they’ll be able to manage. As much fun as they have talking about political strategy, Eliza calls it a night sometime around 1 am. Alexander’s eyes have been drooping, and he’s starting to take long pauses between sentences as if his mind is having trouble pulling the right words from the recesses of his conscious. 

The next morning, Eliza finds herself waking up with a tinge of excitement in her belly. It’s Friday which means their dinner with Thomas is tonight. She doesn’t actually know if anything is going to happen tonight; she and Alexander planned on flirting a little more and potentially progressing from there, and although she is certain Thomas is interested, there’s no guarantee he’s up for something like this. It isn’t exactly most people’s idea of normal. 

Although, Thomas certainly has his share of quirks if Alexander’s observations are to be trusted, which she knows they are.

_I guess I’ll be finding out more of that myself soon._

She finds herself up about twenty minutes earlier than normal, so she decides to make a real breakfast for them. Usually she has a yogurt with granola or fruit or some similar depressingly sparse meal, and Alexander is impossible to coax into eating in the morning unless there’s something substantial to offer him. For the most part, neither of them are usually up for cooking breakfast.

Eliza pulls some bacon from the freezer and sets about making pancakes. She turns on some music from her phone, a quiet, calming spotify playlist labeled “morning.” 

She loves their kitchen. They custom made it when they bought their house, and it has everything she could ever want. Neither of them cook a lot since they’re usually too tired to do anything after work, but she has a chance to appreciate the kitchen on the occasion they do. She has lot of fond memories of them baking Christmas cookies by the stove or having sex on the counter.

She tries not to think of those particular memories as she sets her mixing bowl on the very same marbled countertop. 

Eliza starts pouring the batter into the pan to start cooking the pancakes. She finds herself singing along to her playlist as she does so, so she’s more than a little startled when she hears Alexander say, “I once saw a cook in Vegas who could do tricks flipping pancakes.” Surprised, she pours a little too much batter into the pan and manages to spill some over the edge as well. 

She gives Alexander a look. “I know; I was with you when you saw that show.” 

“Were you? It was so long ago I can never remember.”

“I was. We also saw a daredevil show that night, and it had the weird man with the eyelid tattoos who swallowed a sword.” 

“Oh yeah! Now I remember,” Alexander says walking over to her. He pulls back a piece of hair that has escaped her ponytail and affectionately kisses her nose. “If I recall correctly, I believe that was the show where we sat in the back and you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“Ah, now I see why you remember that one,” Eliza shoots back, but pulls him into a kiss right after.

Alexander breaks the kiss after a few moments but keeps his forehead pressed to hers. “No, I remember because it was only a few months after we’d started dating. You were wearing that peach silk dress. As we were leaving I remember just looking at you, and I knew we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“You never told me that.” Eliza looks at him with a goofy look on her face, their mouths still only a few centimeters apart. “Did you ever think we’d make it this far? I mean, look at all we’ve done together.”

“And here we are,” Alexander says in a pseudo magnanimous tone, “about to sleep with a smarmy politician together. Just melts your heart doesn’t it?”

Eliza laughs and playfully smacks his arm. “That was almost a nice moment, you ass. Go get ready for work. I’ll finish up our breakfasts, which you’ve now made me burn.

Alexander blows her a kiss, already walking away. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” she exasperatedly shouts back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun things coming up in the next chapter! Leave a comment to feed an attention starved author.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dinner is here! Enjoy!

Friday afternoon Eliza leaves work early to get dinner started. Alexander and Eliza had flipped a coin for who was going to be the primary chef tonight and she’d lost. It was probably for the best anyway. While they were both were sufficient, they both knew Eliza was a better cook. Growing up she had always cooked for her sisters when her parents were indisposed - her father usually preoccupied by work and her mother at some social function or locked in her room with a crippling headache. 

In any case, Alexander was going to try to head home a little early to help her out, but this meal was mainly on her. 

Eliza closes and locks the door behind her as she walks into their house. Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she makes her way to the kitchen for the second time that day. She kicks them off and moans at the instant relief. Years of heels and she regrettably still hasn’t lost the feeling in her feet yet. This pair is new, black and white striped with a sharp point at the toe, and although they hurt like hell, she knows she looks pretty damn good in them. She makes a mental note to put them back on when Thomas arrives.

Eliza puts her grocery bag on the counter and starts pulling out items. She’s making chicken pesto pasta, a vinegar salad, parmesan bread, and a homemade strawberry cheesecake. She’d made Alexander the same thing while they were first dating, but back then she’d had Peggy and Angelica come over the help her. 

Just as she starts to cut up the chicken, she hears keys outside the door. Alexander walks in, takes off his jacket, and loosens his tie while making his way over to her. 

“Hi Betsey.” Alexander leans down and kisses her cheek in their customary fashion. 

“Hi sweetie,” Eliza says, “Can you start chopping some of the vegetables? The cherry tomatoes, olives, and red onions still need to be done and the romaine lettuce needs to be washed.”

“For you, anything, my love,” he moves in to kiss her again, this time on the lips. She kisses him back, leaning against his chest. She sets down her knife and rests her hands slightly south of his waist. 

Alexander mocks offense. “Elizabeth Schuyler, did you just put your hands on my ass?”

She grins. “I may have. You know I love your butt, and it’s just so cute in those new pants you’re wearing. I couldn’t help myself.” 

“And here I thought I was married to a wholesome woman.” 

“Well maybe,” she says, walking her fingers up his chest to caress his face, “you should go over there and start chopping those vegetables lest I trick you into giving up your virtue.” 

“Alright, alright, I see, back to work it is.” Alexander walks over to the other counter and starts chopping. 

“So, how was your day?” Eliza asks. They fall into a comfortable rhythm with their respective tasks. She turns on the stove to start cooking the small pieces of chicken, and grabs a pot to boil the water for the pasta. 

“Good, relatively uneventful. I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight,” Alexander says, pausing in his assignment to look over at Eliza.

She looks up as well. “I found myself in the same situation. I forgot how nerve-wracking first dates are.” 

“I never thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right. Although I don’t know if it qualifies as a first date if the other party isn’t aware they’re on a date,” Alexander says, going back to the salad. 

“That’s fair. This is certainly not most people’s idea of a first date,” Eliza says. She gets to work on the pesto, putting ingredients together in the food processor. 

“Although the butterflies are still there,” Alexander muses. 

“Mhm,” Eliza responds. They work together for the half hour chopping, mixing, pureeing, and baking until they have what looks like a suitably elegant spread. Eliza is just putting the cheesecake in the refrigerator to cool when Alexander says, “I wonder which of us will be able to get Jefferson to kiss us first.” 

Eliza raises an eyebrow. “Well given how our plan is laid out, I would wager he’ll kiss you first.”

“Really? I was guessing you’d have the advantage.”

“No way. You definitely have an edge.”

“You know what I think?”

“No, but I’m always interested in finding out,” Eliza responds, licking the last of the strawberry sauce off her fingers. 

“I think we should bet on it,” Alexander says, “Make it interesting.”

“Alright, yeah, let’s do it. If I’m right and you kiss Thomas first -”

“Ugh, I hate when you call him Thomas. It feels so wrong.”

“Anyway,” Eliza says deliberately, “If I’m right and you kiss Thomas first, I get to watch you and Thomas make out for five minutes at a later date to be used at my discretion, assuming he’s willing, and if you’re right, you can have the inverse.”

“Okay yeah, I’ll take that deal. Oh, and Eliza,” he says, just as she’s turning to leave the kitchen and set the table, “You’re going down.”

She turns back around and shoots him a look. “Oh yeah? Well you’ll be going down harder than you went down on me on our wedding night.” 

“Oh yeah, well… well…” Alexander, in lieu of a comeback, runs his finger over the inside of the bowl they used to mix the strawberry sauce and wipes some just under her lip. He looks disproportionately proud of this childish tactic.

“Wow, Alexander, very mature. Is this how you win cabinet debates?” she taunts.

“I thought it was about on par with the base joke you made that was more fitting of a teenage boy than an elected congresswoman. What would your constituents say if they could hear you talk?” he wonders, pulling her closer. He leans down and kisses the strawberry off her lip, tasting the sugary substance on her mouth. She backs them up against the countertop, the innocent kiss very quickly turning heated.

“That apron is so cute on you,” Alexander says, running his hands over her hips. “We should do domestic things more often.”

“I’m afraid we have our hands full manipulating some of the most powerful people in the country,” she responds, her forehead pressed against his as they breath in the same air.

“Hear, hear to that.” She pulls him back down and roughly kisses him. His lips are hot and feverish, and they kiss with the repressed passion from a day of fantasizing about tonight. He presses her hard against the counter, his fingers carding through her hair. Desire courses through her veins, and she lets herself fall into the kiss.

Soon, she pushes herself up so that she’s sitting on the counter, Alexander happily standing between her legs. Her pencil skirt has ridden up to the top of her thighs due to their new positioning, and Alexander is taking advantage of this fact. Need flows through her and she’s seeking friction by grinding her hips against his. He responds in kind, hitting just the right spot, and she sighs wantonly -

“My, my, walking in on the Hamiltons twice in one week. Lucky me.” Thomas is leaning against the doorway of their kitchen, looking them up and down in that slow way that implies he’s enjoying their tableau more than is proper. He’s wearing a purple bow tie, a matching button up shirt, and dress pants that hug him in the best way.

Eliza and Alexander jump apart at the sound of his voice, genuinely startled and embarrassed to be caught making out like teenagers. Eliza feels off balance: she never likes to start a game at a disadvantage. It would have been one thing if they had planned this bout of exhibitionism, but they simply gotten carried away. It feels like they’ve given Thomas the upper hand in whatever this is. 

_No matter. We’ll just have to continue as planned._

Thomas turns away with a chuckle at his joke, starting to walk into the dinning room. Eliza collects herself, readjusting her outfit and putting her shoes back on before following. 

“Go get him,” Eliza breaths just as she and Alexander breach the threshold of the dinning room. Alexander catches her message.

“I guess I forgot to lock the door on my way in,” Alexander says, the lilt in his voice a tip off that he’s about to trade barbs with Jefferson, ”Usually closing it is enough to keep the undesirables out, but I suppose nothing has a perfect success rate.” 

“Mmm, well perhaps someday Alexander you’ll be able to save up enough of your own money to invest in a home in a safer area. Or does this impoverished neighborhood remind you of home?” Thomas’s grin is reminiscent of a toddler who has successfully insulted his sibling. 

“No, Nevis was blissfully free of the type of _vermin,”_ Alexander practically spit the words at Thomas, “the I just can’t seem to escape here.”

Thomas opens his mouth for a retort when Eliza cuts in, “Boys, boys, that’ll be enough for now. Alexander, why don’t you take the wine Thomas has brought and I’ll go get the salad.”

“That sounds like a fine idea Eliza,” Thomas says, “Can I help you get anything?”

“Yes, actually, would you be able to set the table? Let me show you where the silver wear is.” 

Alexander remains in the dinning area as planned, pretending to appraise the wine, while Eliza leads Thomas into their kitchen.

“Here you are,” Eliza says, opening the drawer for him and pointing him to the napkins.

“Thank you Eliza, you’re as hospitable as ever,” Thomas charms with a grin so candied it could give a dead man diabetes. 

Eliza pauses, leans against the counter, and pretends to be considering the words she and Alexander planned out. “I have to say, I am so sorry for my Alexander’s behavior. I told him not to start anything tonight. You know, the stress of the election and everything, I think it’s really getting to him.”

Thomas laughs, and it almost sounds genuine, friendly even, “It’s alright. Compared to our usual sparring that was actually rather tame. And despite your many virtues, I imagine wrangling Alexander is a task too great for any one mortal.”

So predictable. He responds to this tactic the same way every time. 

“You’d be surprised,” she says, slipping into a slightly sultry tone. She gets a little bit closer, into his personal space and certainly beyond the lines of propriety. “I manage to get him to do what I want fairly often. All he needs is a bit of incentive.”

“Does he now?” Thomas’s words are slow, dripping with double meaning. He leans, shifts so he is facing her more fully and in the process brings them even closer. His gaze darts down for a second, and _Jesus he isn’t even subtle about it._

“I’ve found he can be quite responsive to a little bit of authority,” she says, the implication hanging between them, “Especially if you know what buttons to push. Although I’m sure you’re familiar with Alexander’s ticks.” 

They stand like that for a few moments, frozen, the air between them heavy with things unsaid. 

“Oh,” Thomas breaths out. 

And as easily as she created it, she shatters the fragile moment by reaching past him for the salad bowl. She grabs the bread while she’s at it too, and starts to walk towards the dinning room. 

She turns, stops for a second to give him a moment to hope that she’s going to continue with their previous line of conversation. “Can you help me out and grab the pasta bowl?”

Eliza and Thomas return to the dinning room to find Alexander pouring three glasses of wine. They set down their dishes and Alexander brings the glasses over to the table, handing each of them a glass. 

Thomas looks at Alexander. Eliza can tell their conversation in the kitchen a moment ago has had an impact on him. “Listen Hamilton, I know we’ve both said some rather displeasing things to each other in the past. And I know we’ve had a contentious past, but we’re both working towards the same goals. How about we put that behind us?”

Thomas is the only person Eliza knows who could slip the word “contentious” into an apology. At least he’s trying.

“I think that can be arranged.” Eliza sees the ghost of a smile on Alexander’s face. So far, this has all gone according to plan. Alexander raises his glass in a toast, and Eliza and Thomas mirror his stance. “To mending wounds.”

“To better friendships,” Thomas adds.

“And to an unstoppable alliance,” Eliza finishes. 

They clink their glasses together and all take a drink before sitting down. Eliza and Alexander break their usual rule, and each takes a healthy sip. While they’re not fond of compromising their senses, they had both agreed that, given their intentions for the evening, tricking Thomas into drinking while they both remained sober felt like they were crossing a line neither was comfortable with passing. 

They all sit and start passing the food around. Thomas is pulling another piece of her bread from the basket and comments, “Eliza this all looks amazing.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. Alexander did help,” she says taking a bite of the pasta. 

“Mmm Alexander I didn’t realize you could cook,” Thomas says, directing his gaze towards Alexander. 

“There are a lot of things you don’t realize about me,” Alexander says plainly, not in a mean way, just matter of fact.

Thomas pauses for a little too long to be considered normal, looking at Alexander contemplatively. “I suppose you’re right.”

Eliza doubts they are talking about cooking anymore.

Thomas, apparently uncomfortable with lingering too long on the subject of the merits of his supposed enemy, turns his attention to Eliza. “So, Eliza, word on the hill is that you’re trying to get some education legislation through.” 

“Well, it’s an important piece of funding, and it would help inner city schools a great deal. Really it would be a boost for some of the poorer areas of New Y-“

“Yikes, Eliza, it sounds like you’re reading me the start of a campaign speech your assistant wrote 30 seconds ago on a torn piece of lined paper behind stage,” Thomas teases with a grin, “What’s the real reason for your pushing this legislation?” 

As he’s talking, Eliza has to acknowledge he’s right. She isn’t just forcing it through because she is there to stick up for disadvantaged communities, although that is a positive outcome she’s in favor of. She has a tough re-election coming up, and her opponent notoriously chose to decrease state spending on education while in state congress. It’s as much a calculated political tactic as everything else she does. The fact that Thomas was so easily able to discover her slight deception is infuriating, although she has to admit she didn’t do the best job covering it. He doesn’t have to know that though. She smiles back kindly. “Oh, you caught me. I admit that is a canned response. Forgive me, I’m afraid I’ve given one too many stump speeches in the past few weeks. However, I was genuine about my intentions, some of the poorer areas in the country are really lacking a good education system, and I think some increased funding would go a long ways towards fixing that.” 

Thomas takes a sip of wine, emptying the glass, and he starts refreshing all three glasses. “Forgive me, Eliza, but you don’t strike me as the type of person who vouches for legislation purely out of the good of her heart.” 

Eliza catches Alexander’s eye. There’s a twinkle there and the corners of his lips are slightly turned up, suggesting he’s enjoying watching her deal with Jefferson. She’s finally understanding what a pain in the ass he can be. “I suppose I can’t begrudge you that perception, although I assure you it’s markedly false. But I can certainly understand how you’d think that. Sometimes I have to put on a tough exterior to be taken seriously, especially as a woman, and I suppose that harshness sometimes comes off as a lack of feeling. I have to tell you, it’s been such a struggle to find that balance between forceful and caring. I guess people assume that because I’m a woman I should be waxing poetic about every issue that matters to me, but I’ve found that isn’t effective at getting items passed. In any case, I can understand how you would think that about me Thomas.” Ass.

Thomas looks genuinely ashamed at his remarks. “Well, Eliza, I apologize. It seems I’ve misread you.”

Thomas may be good, but he’s not good enough to play with her. Alexander looks impressed at her handling of him. He throws her a bone to solidify her claim. 

“Oh yes, Betsey has been a supporter of helping impoverished education systems her entire career.” Alexander takes her hand over the table as he talks, giving her an affectionate look as though he finds her dedication to her work in education absolutely breathtaking. 

Eliza picks up the conversation, happy to move on to a new topic. “So, Thomas, Alexander tells me you’ve been helping with new tax proposal for Washington?" 

Alexander’s exact words had been a little more along the lines of “Jefferson is hijacking my tax plan for Washington, and he’s ruining it with his fucking stupid conservative ideas.” Eliza decides against using the direct quotation in her conversation with Thomas. Apparently, while Thomas and Alexander had agreed about the strategic timing of the plan, they’d been fighting over the content.

Thomas grabs another piece of bread, his first helping having been finished long ago. “Yes, well helping might be a little strong. I’ve simply been suggesting ideas to make sure Washington avoids announcing a plan more unpopular than it needs to be right before an election season.”

Alexander can’t help but chiming in, “The plan is going to be unpopular any way you slice it. I’m just trying to appeal to our key voter demographic so at least they’ll support it and our own party won’t turn on us come November.”

“Well sure we’ll get the extreme left, but preliminary polling shows that the moderates don’t like it, and, like every election basically ever, that’s who we need to appeal to to win.”

“Yes, well, sometimes the people don’t know what’s good for them! You think the majority of people complaining about my plan understand anything about fiscal policy? Much less the intricacies of this proposal? As soon as they see it effect, and they realize that it’s only increasing taxes on the very, very richest Americans, they’ll change their tune.”

“That’s your problem Hamilton, you think you’re so much smarter than everyone! Well I’ve got news for you - the American people have spoken and they don’t like you or your ignorant, unrealistic, government-loving plan!”

Eliza wonders if it’s possible these are the same men who were toasting to a better partnership a moment ago. To be fair, she had provoked them by bringing up the issue in the first place, but she just really wanted to win the bet. 

Alexander looks like he’s going to explode. He pushes back his chair and stands up. “You uneducated ass!”

“You pretentious twit!” Thomas copies his gesture, and both glare at the other from across the table. Eliza watches them toss insults back and forth like a game of tennis.

“Illiterate!”

“Pompous!”

“Arrogant!”

“Snob!”

With each insult Alexander and Thomas come a step closer to each other until they’re standing barely an inch apart. Eliza sees a faint blush coloring Alexander’s cheeks, possibly from the wine, possibly from his proximity to Thomas. They pause for a moment, simply breathing in the same air, before they both surge forward and they’re kissing. They lean into it, and Alexander’s hands find their way to Thomas’s hair, tilting his head back to get a better angle. She watches as Alexander lightly tugs at Thomas’s bottom lip, and hears Thomas’s resulting moan. It sounds positively indecent, and Eliza feels a bit like an intruder, stepping in where she doesn’t belong. However, she can’t deny the arousal she feels watching her husband kissing Thomas. 

Thomas pulls back slowly, looking at Alexander imploringly. He looks vaguely horrified at what he’s done, whether because he’s shocked at kissing his arch enemy or because it’s dawned on him that Alexander is married and his wife is standing a few feet away. Thomas’s eyes flicker over to Eliza briefly, but Alexander’s hand gently guides Thomas’s face back to him.

“It’s okay,” Alexander whispers, leaning back in. Thomas is again entrapped by Alex, Thomas’s mouth moving against his. Thomas reaches up to rest his hands on Alex’s chest, feeling the hot skin underneath his shirt. Alexander responds favorably, pulling Thomas even closer. They break apart for a moment, breathing heavily, and simply looking at each other as if they’d never seen the other quite like this before. It feels monumental, like something is shifting between them. 

Thomas’s eyes flicker to Eliza for a fraction of a second before landing back on Alexander, as if he’s asking her husband approval before kissing her as well. 

_He’ll have to be broken of that habit._

Eliza steps forward, gently grabbing Thomas’s hair, and pulling his mouth towards her. Kissing him is different than kissing Alexander. Alexander is familiar, comfortable, hot in that they both know what the other likes and exactly how to push each other’s buttons. Thomas is a different kind of good. He’s unpracticed but passionate, putting himself out there for her to do what she wants with. 

Little sparks of desire flood her veins, and he feels so unbelievably good against her. He tentatively rests his hands on her waist, as if expecting her to suddenly come to her senses and throw them off. Instead, she places her own hands over them, guiding his further up to indicate it’s okay if he wants to feel her, to explore her more thoroughly. He seems to get the message that he doesn’t need to walk on glass because he renews his efforts with increased dedication. 

Thomas pulls back for a moment. “Is this - is this okay?” 

There are so many things that question could mean, but she finds that the answer to all of them is, “More than okay.” 

They resume, and Alexander starts kissing Thomas’s neck, running his hands over him, feeling his chest and back. Heat flares between the three of them, and Alexander whispers to them both, “Should we go upstairs?” 

Thomas groans in accent, clearly very enthusiastic about whatever that option has in store. Alexander and Eliza trade off kissing him while also guiding him upstairs to their bedroom. They almost trip a few times, but end up just falling against each other, which in turn distracts them even more and delays their progress. 

Finally they push open the bedroom door, and the three stand in the middle of the room, still engaged in some hodgepodge of kissing and touching and biting. Together, Eliza and Alexander work on undressing Thomas. In between kisses they undo his bow tie and unbutton his shirt until it hangs on his shoulder. With each article of clothing they remove, Alexander and Eliza take their time exploring Thomas’s newly revealed skin. Looking at him like this, Eliza can’t help thinking he looks like a model, hair perfect and skin glowing. 

_I just want to mess him up._

A shared look with Alexander confirms he is thinking the same thing. Eliza is standing behind Thomas, her hands draped over his shoulders, and she slowly kisses a path up Thomas’s neck. Alexander gets on his knees, hands at Thomas’s waistband. Thomas looks like he’s about to pass out from their combined efforts and Eliza watches him suppress a moan. 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, mouth close to his ear, “you don’t have to be quiet. We like hearing how affected you are, how good this all feels.”

Thomas groans loudly. Eliza starts mouthing at his ear and the surrounding skin, producing another delightful noise from Thomas. 

Meanwhile, Alex torturously undoes Thomas’s belt buckle, looking up at him the entire time and biting his own lip. He pulls the leather out of the buckle and starts working with Thomas’s zipper. Thomas closes his eyes and lets his head fall back a little, with a moan at the imagery. Eliza’s mouth is still close to Thomas’s ear and she whispers, “Isn’t he gorgeous like that? He’s has an exceptional mouth, hasn’t he? I imagine you’ll find he’s very talented in a variety of ways.” 

Alexander has progressed to mouthing at Thomas’s cock over his boxers, leaving a damp spot there. “Good God, I think I’m finding that out already. This mouth has caused me so much trouble over the years, it only seems right I should be repaid in some way.”

Alexander pulls away for a second. “Smack him for me, would you Betsey?” 

Eliza turns Thomas’s face towards her and he goes willingly. “Oh I don’t think I could ever hit a face this pretty.” 

She caresses his cheek with her thumb before leaning in to kiss him. She can tell the exact moment Alexander pulls Thomas’s boxers down and starts mouthing at his cock because Thomas bites down on her lip a little too hard in surprise. She can empathize; Alexander always proves to be very talented with his mouth. 

Eliza stands behind Thomas, partially to offer support to keep him standing and partially because she’s taking advantage of her chance to run her fingers over his chest. She kisses his neck and his shoulders, running her hands over his belly, his chest, his back. She fixates on the junction between his neck and his shoulder, laving it with her tongue. Meanwhile, Alexander has taken Thomas’s cock into his mouth, and he’s moving his lips over him with fervor. Alexander has always been enthusiastic about giving head, and Eliza suspects Alexander has had a bit of an oral fixation. 

Presently, Thomas’s hands move to grab Alexander’s hair. Thomas holds them at bay for a moment, asking if this is okay, and Alexander nods. Eliza watches Thomas embed his hands in Alexander’s dark black strands and lightly tug on them. Alexander moans around Thomas’s hard cock, which presumably feels very good because it produces a responding noise from Thomas.

“Jesus, Hamilton, who knew you were so good at this?” Thomas says breathily. He adds, fighting to get there words out, “God, you feel so good and warm around my cock.”

The praise spurs Alexander on and he moves at a faster clip. He’s always been easily motivated by being told he’s doing a good job. 

Thomas’s grip on Alexander’s hair becomes harsher, and Eliza suspects he’s getting close. She figures she should help them out a little. “You both look so good like this, it’s all I can do not to reach down and start rubbing myself under my panties. God, just seeing my boys helping each other out, I’m practically soaking through this pair.”

Finally, Thomas comes, evidently quite affected my Eliza’s calling them “my boys.” She files that information away for later. Thomas gives a shout to warn Alexander in case he wanted to pull off, and subsequently moans, “Oh God, Hamilton, oh.” Alexander continues to move over Thomas’s cock a few more times to sustain his orgasm for as long as possible, and he looks rather pleased at the fact that Thomas has been using his name. Eliza watches Alexander swallow Thomas’s come, licking over Thomas’s cock to make sure he’s got it all, and it’s possibly one of the most erotic things she’s ever witnessed. That is, before Alexander stands up and kisses Thomas on the mouth, presumably letting Thomas taste himself. Eliza pulls Thomas away for a kiss of her own, and she can taste the leftover saltiness on his tongue. 

Suddenly, both the men turn their attentions towards her, kissing her, touching her, working to undress her. They manage to pull her shirt and skirt off until she’s left in her bra and panties. They’re matching white lace, picked out especially for tonight, and she feels both mens’ eyes greedily taking her in. Thomas surges forward, kissing her hard and fast while his no longer timid hands reach to take her supple ass in his hands. Alexander takes a secondary role, content to watch for them moment, and starts taking off his own garments. Meanwhile,Thomas manages to swiftly undo the clasp of her bra, and when he reaches out of touch her breasts, he looks like he might die from longing. He cups them, feeling the weight of them, which quickly turns into him tracing patterns over them with his thumb, making her shiver. 

Thomas walks them back to the bed, still kissing her. They reach the mattress and she falls back onto it, leaning on her elbows so she’s half sitting. Thomas falls to his knees, keeping her gaze when he pulls the damp white lace thong lewdly aside to have better access to her. He traces her with his fingers, feeling how wet she is and which areas are most sensitive. He moves on to pressing his mouth into her, his tongue gently tracing around her clit teasingly. She buries her hands in his hair, attempting to guide him where she wants him. He resists, enjoying watching her squirm while he teases her. Frustrated, Eliza presses her hips against him, trying to at least get some pressure going, and finding only slight success. She groans, disheartened, and finally he takes mercy on her. 

A shock shoots through her when he finally moves his tongue over her clit roughly. The sounds his mouth is making against her wetness are positively depraved, and coupled with her gratified moans, she thanks God their bedroom is soundproofed. He tries out various patterns, watching her reactions to find the one she likes best. Her sharp intake of breath when he lightly runs his teeth over her doesn’t escape his notice.

Meanwhile, Alexander has almost entirely undressed himself, remaining in his boxer briefs for the time being. He lies down on the bed, enjoying the display before him and occasionally leaning down to kiss Eliza. He kisses her everywhere: her hips, her belly, her lips, her breasts.

He lingers on the last one for a while, mouthing at one of her sensitive nipples. Alexander seems perfectly content to tease her further. Occasionally, he reaches down to apply a little pressure to his leaking cock for relief, but always returns to touching Eliza. Between that and that _thing_ Thomas is doing with his tongue suddenly, she lets out a small yelp and pulls against Thomas’s hair. Apparently he likes that because he continues his efforts with a renewed vigor. 

She closes her eyes, overwhelmed with sensation. She feels one of Thomas’s fingers pressing against her entrance, pushing inside. After a moment of adjustment, Thomas adds another, and she writhes against him. He curls his fingers in her, finding just the right spot. He thrusts his fingers into her a few more times, each time making sure to hit that same sensitive spot. 

Between his hands, his mouth, and Alexander’s efforts, she finds herself getting closer to her orgasm. Finally, as Thomas’s callused fingers press into her again she feels her body convulse with pleasure. The sensation washed over her nerves and she hears herself moaning, “Oh my God, Thomas, oh, fuck, fuck.” 

He carries her through the aftershocks and pulls away when her skin becomes too sensitive. She looks at him past heavy lidded eyes, watches as Thomas wipes his mouth, his lips still wet with her. The whole juxtaposition is just so stupid hot she can’t help but breath out, “Jesus Christ Thomas.”

He kisses up her body, the action more endearing than sensual. He reaches her mouth, and they share a series of soft little kisses. Alexander starts running his fingers through her hair, stopping every few times to massage her scalp soothingly. Eliza isn’t sure how long she lies there, lavished with caresses and kisses, but soon enough she feels the familiar ache returning between her legs.

Oh, and her sweet husband, her Alexander, he’s been so patient she almost forgot that he hasn’t received much attention yet tonight. In one quick motion, she rolls herself on top of him and kisses him hotly. 

She rolls her hips down against him, feeling his hardness there and purposefully pressing against him. She was still so wet that she slid easily against his skin, sinfully dragging herself across his cock. Finally, she sinks down on him, and they both let out mutual groans. She feels the delightful fullness that she’d been longing for. She starts moving on him, feeling the delightful friction as he moved in and out. Alexander places his hands on her thighs, gripping harder each time she moves back on him. 

As she rides Alexander, she feels Thomas’s arousal growing beside them. He looks so enraptured by them, unable to tear his gaze away from the couple. Eliza knows they look amazing together like this. She and Alexander made a few home movies together over the years, which were promptly watched a few times and then destroyed lest someone got their hands on them. They wouldn’t have risked making them if they had been doing something more illicit, such as the present, but they figured the nation knowing they fucked their respective spouses wasn’t too big of a scandal to destroy either of their careers. 

At the present, Thomas stares at them, pupils dilated and unconsciously licking his lips. Thomas reaches over and starts rubbing her clit. Eliza reaches down to help him find a pattern she likes, and once her gets into the rhythm of it she feels like she might pass out from all the stimulation. Eliza throws her head back and moans unashamedly as she sinks onto Alexander’s cock. She feels both men’s eyes glued on her. 

Eliza picks up the pace as she feels herself coming closer to her climax. Her legs are trembling and she can feel the buildup in her nerves. Thomas, reading her body, moves faster and puts on a little more pressure. With a small scream, she comes for the second time that night, riding out the pleasure on Alexander’s cock. She feels him twitch inside her and come himself, which pushes her already sensitive self over the edge for a third, smaller orgasm. She feels her muscles spasm and thinks she hears Thomas whisper some expletive, apparently taken with their display. She slows her pace until they’re both done, before pulling off.

Eliza rolls over so she’s lying between Thomas and Alexander. She’s works on taming her heavy breathing, but she can’t do anything about the sweat that’s drying on her skin. Thomas and Alexander both lavish her with kisses, occasionally stopping to kiss each other over her, which she enjoys just as much. 

Eventually, the kisses slow until they all lie there, content to be wrapped in each other and breathing slowly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert three kissing emojis here*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s slightly on the shorter side. Also, warning for google translate french ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The bright sunlight filtering in through the Hamilton’s translucent curtains wakes Eliza the next morning. She savors the moment, delightfully devoid of the blaring alarm she’s used to waking up to. Eliza and Alexander try their best to sleep in on weekends; work is important but they’re useless to anyone if they’re sleep deprived.

Eliza gingerly stretches, trying not to wake Alexander who’s currently wrapped around her. It’s only when she casts her eyes around the room and they rest upon the frizzy dark hair to her right that she remembers Alexander is not the only one she has to worry about waking. Upon further inspection she notices Thomas is sleeping on his side with one hand on her belly, the other behind his head, and his legs entwined with her’s. She takes a moment to take him in unfettered. 

The first thing she notices is how long his eyelashes are, resting against the top of his cheeks. They make him look almost innocent. In fact, his entire resting demeanor has a type of openness his waking face disposes of. When he’s conscious he’s usually so smug, so arrogant, so self-assured, but when all that’s wiped away, his face looks almost kind. Something about the expression makes feel a surge of affection, makes her want to kiss him, but she resists in lieu of further inspection. 

He has nice skin too - she can tell from looking at him that he’s the type of teen that never got acne. She can’t help but be a little bitter, since she dealt with substantial breakouts into her 20’s. She notes that the way he wears his facial hair is rather attractive. Something about it is pleasing to her eye, whether it’s because it fits so well with his bone structure or because it somehow melds favorably with his personality. 

Eliza sets her sights lower, taking in the expanse of his chest and his belly. She can tell he must put in some time working out as he’s lacking the little belly Alexander has. That isn’t to say she likes one more than the other, she is after all very fond of her husband’s tummy, but she finds a unique satisfaction in the act of comparing them. She follows the sparse trail of hair that goes down Thomas’s chest until she reaches his cock, which, she notes, is hard. She knows that it’s likely just a physiological reaction that occurs every morning, but she can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming about her and Alexander.

Eliza briefly considers waking Thomas up with a blow job. That’s always been a favorite trick of her’s with Alexander, and she’s always received a favorable response. She restrains herself again however, thinking that she doesn’t know how he might react this morning. While he was certainly a willing participant last night, there’s no telling how he’ll feel this morning. She’d rather avoid the trauma of him waking up to her mouth, unwanted, on one of his most intimate areas. 

Eliza returns her eyes to Thomas’s face. She traces his features with her gaze, enjoying just passively looking. She never noticed just how nice his bone structure is before. His cheekbones in particular are very attractive; she indulges herself by musing that he must have stolen them off a Michelangelo sculpture -

Thomas’s eyes fly open and Eliza let’s out a little yelp in shock, slightly embarrassed to have been caught looking. Apparently stirred by the commotion, Alexander, partially awake, hair the usual morning mess, and one eye still closed, half sits up and looks at the two people in front of him, evidently trying to figure out what’s going on. 

They all start talking at once.

“Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Where the hell am I?”

“I’m so sorry!” 

Everyone pauses for a second and processes what the other two said. Eliza gets there first.

She directs her attention towards Alexander first. “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty sleep. You can go back to sleep if you’d like.” She changes targets. “Good morning, Thomas. I apologize for my shriek, you just caught me a little off guard.” 

Eliza sits up and starts smoothing down her hair before pulling a dressing gown on and continuing, “Can I make you some breakfast?”

Thomas still appears to be in a state of minor shock at his surroundings. He’s looking around the room as if the evaluate whether or not this is real or just a feverish dream. 

“Don’t worry about interrupting my beauty rest, darling, I’m already gorgeous,” Alexander shoots back, swinging out of bed himself and pulling on a robe. “Why don’t I help you with breakfast? Oh, and Jefferson, feel free to relax if you’d like. We’ll be back in a few with something to eat. You look a little pale - maybe some food will help.”

They quickly shuffle out of the room, and as soon as they’re out of earshot Eliza whispers, “I don’t know what freaked him out more, waking up with both of us or how nice you were being to him.”

They reach the top of the stairs and Alexander opens his mouth to reply when they hear Thomas squeal, “Wait a second! What the hell?” 

They both turn and wait for Thomas to speak first. They prepared for this very likely eventuality, and as usual they have a strategy. If they can get him to ask the right questions, they can comfort him, making him more receptive to a long term arrangement, as well as avoid having to divulge too much. Essentially, they can make him think they’re being open without revealing anything substantial. 

Thomas looks at them imploringly. It’s a nice change of pace from his usual overabundant veneer of confidence. Alexander and Eliza both look back, waiting for him to make the first move. 

Finally he does. “Okay, well my memory is a little fuzzy, but - oh, God,” Thomas say turning to Alexander in horror, apparently putting some pieces together in his mind, “I kissed you.”

“You did a lot more than kiss me.” 

“Not helpful Alexander.”

“Sorry, sweetie.”

“Oh, God, I - I had no idea you two - is this like a thing you do?”

Eliza fields this one. She looks at Thomas with comforting eyes and walks back down the hall towards him as she speaks. “Not really. It’s happened once or twice over the years though, when we’ve found someone we particularly connect with.” Eliza rests a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. She sees Alexander come to stand near them.

“But - but you guys are married!” Thomas doesn’t push away her hand, but it’s clear he’s looking for more of an explanation. 

“We are,” Eliza says, soothingly and matter of fact. _He’s going to need to learn to ask if he has a question._

“And you’re - you’re okay with this? Both of you?”

“Yes, as long as you are,” she says, swapping a look with Alexander, “And I think I speak for Alexander as well when I say we’d like it to continue if you’d be amenable to it.” 

Thomas still looks a little uncertain. _Come on Alexander, you’re going to jump in here if we’re going to convince him_ , she silently prompts. 

Alexander, thankfully on the same page as her, comes to stand in front of Thomas. He doesn’t make physical contact, reading the situation and realizing that that would be too far out of Thomas’s previous characterization of their relationship to be helpful with convincing him. If anything it would just make Thomas even more uncertain, forcing him to change his previous views of them too much as once. 

Alexander looks down and swallows as if he’s having trouble summoning the will to go on with what he’s about to say. He finally looks up, and Eliza thinks he perfectly captures the vulnerable demeanor he’s going for. “Jefferson,” Alexander starts, and clears his throat, “Listen. Eliza and I - well, this is the first time we’ve done anything like this in a long time. We just felt like maybe there’s something between the three of us, physically. And I mean, after last night, I’d say we were right. This doesn’t have to be anything more than you want it to be, and we totally understand if you want to walk away… but I think that would be something we’d all regret.”

Alexander is standing inches away from Thomas and the air between them is heated, practically crackling with tension. Thomas slowly leans down to kiss Alexanders, testing to see if Alexander will pull away. He doesn’t, of course, and their lips meet briefly before Thomas pulls back, gazing at Alexander in a lazily evaluative way. Eliza has a hunch he’s testing himself too, trying to make a decision with his gut about whether this feels right.

Thomas clears his throat. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Eliza echoes.

“Okay,” Alexander repeats with finality. 

They leave it at that. 

Eliza breaks the trance. “So, why don’t we see about that breakfast then?”

“That sounds lovely, Eliza,” Thomas answers, easily slipping back into his usual charm.

The group makes their way downstairs, and into the kitchen. Eliza feels like they’ve all come to a fragile conclusion: Thomas will stay, Alexander will be nice, and Eliza will try to temper them. The atmosphere feels so tentative, and she’s worried if any of them considers it too hard or makes a misstep it’ll all shatter. 

They step into the kitchen, and Eliza thinks to herself with amusement that she’s done more cooking in the past few days than in the few weeks prior. Thomas sits at the breakfast bar while Eliza and Alexander open the fridge and start pulling out the limited breakfast foods they have. 

“So what do you want Thomas? My specialty is scrambled eggs, but Alexander can make some really good sausage,” Eliza says, pausing to look at him while she talks.

“I think I’ll take his sausage,” Thomas replies. 

“Qui était une opinion populaire dernière nuit aussi,” Alexander says to Eliza, grinning. They both know Thomas knows French - he spent a year in France in college - but by pretending they don’t, they’re able to make him think what they’re saying is the worst they have to say behind his back. It’s meant to subtly reassure him that they’re being relatively upfront about their intentions, and that the only thing they’re hiding from him are a few silly jokes. It has the added bonus of making him think he has some advantage, that he knows something they don’t.

Eliza laughs, “Si je me souviens, hier soir, il était aussi très disposé à essayer mes oeufs si vous obtenez ce que je veux dire.”

They both snicker at that, Alexander starting to put the sausages on the griddle and Eliza chopping peppers to put in her eggs. 

“Ce regard confus sur son visage est très mignon,” Alexander adds.

“Il est très mignon, en général,” Eliza amends. 

They pretend to startle when Thomas shoots back, “Merde droite que je suis mignon. Et je ne vous entends pas se plaindre hier soir.” Eliza suppresses a giggle.

“Thomas, I didn’t know you know French,” Alexander says, working a mixture of guilt and reverence into his tone.

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t realize about me,” Thomas says smugly, recycling Alexander’s words from the night before.

Alexander simply smiles back at him like one smiles at a child who’s learned a new skill. 

“Now, I hate to interrupt your cooking, but do either of you have any aspirin? I’m a little hung over and my head is killing me,” Thomas asks, rubbing his temples. 

“Yeah, just check the medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall there,” Eliza answers helpfully.

At the same time, Alexander singsongs, “Lightweight.”

Thomas ignores it for the most part, but doesn’t pass without rolling his eyes. Apparently it’s too early in the morning for him to engage with Alexander fully.

Eliza turns on the radio app on her phone while they continue working. Alexander is admiring his finished sausages, and Eliza is directing him towards some fruit she wants him to cut up to enhance their sparse breakfast spread. 

When Thomas comes back he can’t resist commenting on her choice of radio station with a cackle. “NPR, of course, I should have guessed. You two really take your liberal label seriously I see. What, are you worried that if you step a toe out of party lines FDR will come out of his grave to take away your Democrat card?” None of this is said with the malice his insults for Alexander usually hold, just playful jest.

Eliza grins, stirring her egg mixture. That aspirin is clearly working fast. “No, we just like to stay informed about modern happenings. A habit you clearly don’t share.”

Thomas throws his head back and laughs but doesn’t respond, letting her win this one.

They fall back into a rhythm of comfortable cooking when a story about some woman who may have the Zika virus comes on. Alexander and Eliza both roll their eyes at each other.

“Ugh can you change it to something else? I hate stories like this. The press always over coversthese viruses. There’s only so much I can take,” Thomas says, looking down at his smartphone now.

“Wait you hate these stories? We hate these stories!” Eliza says, excited, “I mean it would be one thing if they covered the impacts across the world, but all they ever focus on are the three people in the United States who might have it! It was the same thing with Ebola.”

This gets Thomas’s attention. He looks up and says, “Exactly! And they always drum up how big of a deal it is and everyone freaks out.”

“This is crazy,” Alexander says, “No one ever agrees with us about that. Everyone always thinks we’re awful for saying that.”

“Yes, it’s very refreshing,” Eliza agrees.

“I’ve found people can often be too touchy about certain topics to understand the logic of the situation clearly,” Thomas says offhandedly, returning to his phone.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Eliza says, grabbing some dishes. “Shall we move into the other room to eat?”

As they all head to the table, Alexander looks over at her, still smiling, his message clear.

_I think we’ll keep him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> qui était une opinion populaire dernière nuit aussi - that was a popular opinion last night too
> 
> si je me souviens, hier soir, il était aussi très disposé à essayer mes oeufs si vous obtenez ce que je veux dire - I recall last night he was also very willing to try my eggs if you get what I mean
> 
> ce regard confus sur son visage est très mignon - that confused look on his face is very cute
> 
> il est très mignon , en général - he is very cute in general
> 
> Merde droite que je suis mignon . Et je ne vous entends pas se plaindre hier soir. - Damn straight I'm cute. And I didn’t hear you complaining last night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we get back to politics please 
> 
> Just kidding. It's like half politics half personal.
> 
> Trigger warning for gun violence towards the end (not based off of any true events).

Shortly after breakfast, Thomas receives a call and leaves to attend to some business or another. The Hamiltons reluctantly let him go, kissing him at the door and playfully trying to pull him back inside. They are, however, careful to stay far enough inside that no nosey passersby would be able to see. They find themselves trapped by precaution, as they so often do.

Despite the recent change in their relationship and the surge of affection Eliza suddenly feels for Thomas, she can’t help the gut reaction that the business Thomas has to attend to is, perhaps, less than innocent. She reasons that it’s probably nothing, just a leftover instinct from before, but she makes a mental note to check it out. 

She also decides to hold off on telling Alexander. He’s only just begun trusting Thomas, and she doesn’t want him to relapse just because she has a feeling that’s probably inaccurate. He’ll be the first to know if she decides there’s more to it. 

Although they’d originally blocked off the rest of their weekend to entertain Thomas, in his absence they decide to redirect their time towards work. After Thomas leaves, Eliza and Alexander brew some tea (earl grey for Eliza and lady grey for Alexander), and settle in to work on their respective tasks. She starts by calling the senate whip.

Tom Collins has been majority senate whip for a little over a year, and every day it astounds Eliza how incompetent he manages to be. When the prior whip had retired, Eliza’s name had been on the short list of candidates. Despite her being promised the job by party leadership, Collins was awarded the position. Eliza discovered a few weeks later that Collins’s extremely wealthy aunt had made it clear that her sizable campaign donations would cease if her nephew didn’t start receiving the “recognition he deserved.” 

It’s a position Eliza would be a natural for, and although she doesn’t have seniority, she knows she is the best woman for the job. Tom is an okay guy, but he’s simply terrible at reading people, which made him both awful at his job, and blind to Eliza’s informal coup. In light of Collins’s failures, she’s been serving as the de facto whip in the last few months. This fact, while well known by about everyone else in congress, was something Tom Collins was ignorant of.

After Eliza had been snubbed, she and Alexander went to work. Although furious and filled with desire for retribution, she sent an email to the senate majority leader, Joseph Robinson, assuring him that while she was disappointed she didn’t get the position, she understood he had to put the welfare of party funding above alliances. She reiterated that she would’ve made the same choice and there were no hard feelings. She ended with a line that stated that if he ever needed anything she was always willing to help. 

As soon as the next difficult piece of legislation came close to being voted on, she’d arranged a meeting with Robinson. She said she knew the vote was close and that she had a few Republicans who owed her a favor. He agreed that would be helpful and just the thing they needed to get their bill passed. As usual, she was successful. After pulling a similar stunt a few more times, Robinson started seeking her out and pulling her into the informal meetings where votes were being arranged. 

However, as far as Collins is concerned, she’s training to take over after he’s done. And it’s true that she’ll only officially receive the position after Collins has quit, an eventuality that she and Alexander have been busy manipulating into existence.

As for Robinson, well, she hasn’t forgotten the part he’s played in all of this. 

In the meantime however, she finds herself with the tedious task of having to placate Collins by pretending to keep him in the loop. 

“Tom! Hi, it’s Eliza Hamilton.” Eliza pops her feet up on her desk, and she and Alexander both role their eyes in exasperation at having to engage in these menial tasks. “Yeah, I’m great. How are you? I hear your son got accepted early decision to Swarthmore. Very impressive. Oh, that’s your alma mater? Wow well tell him that’s a great accomplishment.”

Alexander snorts, “Solved the mystery of how that kid got in; he’s a legacy.”

Eliza softly shushes him while Collins goes on about his son. She murmurs at the appropriate times until there’s a lull in the conversation.

“Look Tom, I’m calling to let you know I talked to Theodore Foster and a few other Republicans, and we should have just enough for Tuesday’s vote on the education bill. Mhmm. I just wanted to put your mind at rest so you could enjoy your weekend. Oh you’re going to Pennsylvania with your son to visit his new college? Well have a great time. Yep. Mhm. I’ll see you monday. Okay. Bye bye now.” 

She hangs up the phone and turns to Alexander. “That was exhausting.”

“But important,” Alexander reminds her, “And one more thing we check off our list. What’s next?”

“Well we just did a me thing so let’s do a you thing.”

“Alright,” Alexander says, bitting his lip, “I think we should plan the logistics how we’re going to start our Adams plan.”

Eliza scoots her chair close enough to Alexander that she can rest her feet on his lap while she leans back. She absentmindedly flips a pen while she thinks, an obnoxious habit they both share. They’re not sure who started doing it first, but it’s gotten to the point that people have noticed that they share that peculiar predilection. There was even a short fluff piece about it on a local news channel. “Well let’s start by figuring out exactly what we’re going to need. A fake ID, probably, a private investigator, some research, and of course, Ben’s help.”

“I’m sure Ben would be more than obliged. Can you get your chief of staff to handle the fake ID?” 

“I’ll talk to Anna. I’m certain she’ll get on board.”

Anna Pratt had been Eliza’s chief of staff since Eliza’s days in the state senate. Anna was ambitious, hardened, loyal, and, along with Ben, one of the few people Eliza truly trusts. Anna was the type of woman who wore the bags under her eyes and her frown line wrinkles as badges of honor. She had a demeanor about her that forced honesty in others out of pure intimidation, and she was a skilled manipulator. When Eliza had started her first term in public office, Anna had been just out of law school, and Eliza had seen her potential from the beginning.

Eliza adds, “I think our best bet is go with the jilted lover approach.”

Alexander taps his fingers against the desk on the side of him, unable to keep still. “Perfect. I think we might need to add a little more detail though to make sure we implicate Jay.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I think we might need some video evidence as well.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Eliza taps her fingers against her thigh. “Who’s Jay’s campaign director again?”

They continue the rest of the afternoon like this, throwing ideas off of each other. Eventually they drift back to their own desks to take care of some of their less intricate tasks. 

Eliza is filing some tax paperwork, when she hears her phone start vibrating, lighting up against the dark wood of her desk. It’s a number she doesn’t recognize. Alexander is so deeply absorbed by his task that he doesn’t seem to notice when she walks out of the room to take the call.

She takes a deep breath, unsure of what to expect, and answers the call. “Hello, Eliza Hamilton speaking.”

“Eliza, how are you?” a deep, honeyed voice says on the other end. She recognizes it instantly as Thomas. Eliza walks further from the office, into the living room, perches on the edge of the couch before formulating a response.

She changes her tone. “I’m good. A little disappointed you couldn’t stay this morning, but I suppose I’m adjusting.”

Thomas laughs on the other end, “Trust me, _I’m_ sorry I had to leave - if last night was what you and Hamilton are like a little tipsy, I can’t image you sober.”

Eliza snorts. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a chance to find out relatively soon. So I take it you’re… okay with all of this? I was worried you were freaked out when you left this morning.”

Thomas is silent for a second. She wonders if she’s asked for too much. She doesn’t know if they can talk to each other like this, if she’s allowed to ask him things that are personal anymore. Prior to this week, it’s been a while since they talked on any meaningful level. 

“Actually yes. It was a little weird for me to think about at first but, well, I guess once it happened it felt inevitable, like it was a predetermined outcome. And I assume we’re all on the same page about keeping this quiet?”

“Of course. I’m sure we’d all like to keep our careers,” she responds tactfully, “And with that, obviously, we’re going to have to be discrete. No one outside of the three of us can know about this.”

“Not a problem. Also, I’m assuming I can count on seeing you two at the state dinner this weekend?”

Eliza mentally curses herself. She’d planned on spending the weekend in New York, working on some stuff at home. But there’s no way she can miss a state dinner. Everything’ll have to be moved around now. She mentally sighs.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” she says.

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both there. Perhaps we can do something afterwards,” Thomas practically purrs, his voice laden with implication. 

“Well I’ll have to check our schedules. We have some pretty important things going on…” Eliza teases.

“Yikes. Looks like I’m getting the brush off,” Thomas replies, fake hurt. 

“We’ll see you then Thomas,” Eliza laughs. She stops for a second before continuing, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“Keep in mind this is just my intrusive curiosity prompting me to ask this, but why didn’t you call Alexander?”

“You mean instead of you? In all honesty, I don’t know. I just went to your contact first. Is that a good enough answer?” That last part isn’t said meanly, but proposed as a genuine question. 

Eliza doesn’t push him on it. “I’ll accept it. And you realize you can call Alexander by his first name right?”

Silence on the other end. She sarcastically wonders if this suggestion, of all things, has finally crossed a line. Finally she hears, “Good night Eliza. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Good night Thomas.”

Eliza hangs up her phone and gently walks back into the office, not wanting to disturb Alexander if he’s still hard at work. He’s apparently noticed her absence, because he looks up at her before asking, “Who was that?”

She closes the door behind her and leans back against it. “Thomas. It looks like we should clear our schedules for after the state dinner. We have date.”

 

***

 

Monday morning on her way to work, Eliza calls a young man named Abraham Lewis on a burner phone she picked up from a Walmart half an hour prior. He’s a college kid, 22 years old, a political science major at American University who’s about to finish his senior year. She’s promised him a high level paid internship in her office with the high probability for advancement if he completes some low level espionage for her in the Jay campaign. So far Abe has worked his way up to a campaign manager and he frequently has access to Jay’s staffers. She has the same deal with a girl who’s currently working in Adams’s camp. 

“Hello?” Abe is whispering. Eliza wonders if she got him in the middle of class. She looks at her watch, and finds it’s not even seven yet. He was probably asleep she amends.

“Abe, hi. It’s Eliza Hamilton. I’m calling from a burner. I’m sorry if I woke you up,” she says quietly. He sounds a little hungover. 

“Mrs. Hamilton, hey, what can I do for you?” Abe says, voice rough. Eliza hears him shuffle around a little, thinks she catches the sound of aluminum cans rattling as he steps over them. 

“Abe, when are you working in Jay’s campaign next? I need you to lift something from his head campaign manager, Kelsey Rhodes.”

“Kelsey? Okay. I mean I don’t work with her very often so I don’t know how long it’ll be before I have what you need. What do you need me to take from her?”

“Her license. I just need you to send me a clear picture of it actually,” Eliza says, biting her thumb nail. She hopes this doesn’t cross any lines for him. It’d be a shame to lose such a valuable resource. 

“Well that’s definitely a lot easier than taking it. Actually, I think all the local campaign managers are supposed to go to this meeting she’ll be at in a few days. I could probably figure out a way into her wallet then,” Ben says. Eliza hears another voice in the background, male. She remembers Ben mentioning how he’s living in an apartment on his own for his senior year. 

“Fantastic. Text the photos to this phone number when you have them. After that I’ll probably get rid of the phone so don’t try the number again,” Eliza warns, “And Abe, be careful. We have some time to get this done, so if there just isn’t an opportunity at the meeting to get a picture of her ID, don’t worry. It isn’t worth doing something risky that might blow your cover.”

“Of course,” Abe reassures, “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“Great,” Eliza says. She’s parked, and is running her thumb along the seam of her peach skirt suit. She’s wants to wrap up the conversation before she starts walking intros work - you never know who could be listening. “I’ll let you get back to entertaining your gentleman friend.”

There’s a brief pause. Eliza imagines he’s trying to process what she just said. Finally she hears, “Jesus, how do you always know this stuff?”

She chuckles before hanging up the phone and throwing it in her car’s center console. 

Eliza opens the door, but before she steps out she trades her comfortable sneakers for a pair of high heels she brought in her bag. They click against the ground as she passes through security and into her office. She mentally organizes her day, changing her priorities from Alexander’s issues to her own. 

Immediately when she walks into her office, there’s a crisis at hand. One of the Republicans she corralled into voting for the education amendment is backing out, and they’ve lost their majority on the bill. The vote is in less than 24 hours. She can’t fail at this, can’t give the party a reason not to make her whip. She sighs, picks up her phone, and starts calling.

 

***

 

_Three years earlier_

 

_Martha Jefferson and Eliza Hamilton walk down the DC streets, trying to decipher the scribbled directions a colleague had hastily written on a napkin earlier that morning. It’s lunch time, and as the senator from New York and the senator from Virginia approach their destination, Eliza looks up from the writing to helpfully comment, “Well Martha, I think we’re pretty lost.”_

_Martha Jefferson is a small woman, but no one would ever mistake her for frail. She has dark black skin, impeccable makeup, cheekbones that could cut glass, and stunning long, dark, curly hair that she wears back most days, but that today she lets exist in its natural glory. And, her intellect is as sharp as her looks, or at least Eliza thinks so._

_Martha stops walking. She inspects the area around them for a minute before conceding. “I think you’re probably right. Damn, I was looking forward to seeing this bakery. I guess we can just look it up online when we get back and give it another try tomorrow.”_

_“For now though, do you want to just settle for the Chipotle over there? I think that’s the best we’re going to be able to do today,” Eliza asks, pointing across the street._

_“Sure,” Martha sighs, clearly disappointed. “Hey, wait a second, Eliza. My bank is right over there, do you mind if we stop? I have to move some money around so Thomas and I can pay for the kitchen renovations.”_

_“If we must.” Eliza says kindly. She places her arm around Martha’s shoulder as the walk across the street. When she’d originally approached Martha a few months ago it had been a purely a strategic friendship on her end, born out of a hunch that Martha would be a good ally to have if Thomas and Alexander are going to be working together. Martha isn’t on any of the committees Eliza is, so they hadn’t talked extensively prior to that. However, in the time since, Eliza’s grown to actually like her, and now finds herself genuinely enjoying her company._

_“So, I hear Thomas and Alexander are fighting again,” Martha gripes, changing the subject. “They’ve been working together for two months and somehow they still can’t seem to work anything out.”_

_Eliza grins at that. “Alexander and Thomas fighting? Next thing scientists are going to be telling us that water may in fact be wet.”_

_“Shut up,” Martha says, giving Eliza a little push. They laugh. “I’m serious. I don’t know what it’s about but Thomas came home more pissed off than I’ve ever seen him.”_

_“Well we’ll have to figure some way to reconcile the two. I doubt they’ll be able to figure out anything on their own,” Eliza muses. Martha pulls open the glass doors and they step out of the cold march air into the heated bank._

_They’re in the bank for five minutes, almost to the front of the line, when two men burst in the front door. They’re dressed in all black, including masks to obscure their faces, and wielding a variety of weapons. They yell for everyone to get on the ground. Eliza would laugh at how horribly stereotypical these particular bank robbers are being if she weren’t so terrified she could cry._

_She and Martha sit on the ground. Neither says anything, too afraid of drawing attention to themselves. They grasp each others hands, squeezing hard. One of the men is yelling at a teller to bring him money while the other stands and points his gun intimidatingly at the patrons, threatening to shoot anyone who talks or pulls out their phone or makes any sudden movements he doesn’t like._

_Eliza doesn’t cry often, but she feels a few tears slip from her eyes. She sits there, huddled together with Martha, trying to breath. The air feels too thin, her lungs unable to pull any oxygen from it. She looks over at Martha. Her eyes are closed, and she’s crying as well. Eliza notices Martha muttering something under her breath, probably prayers. Eliza focuses on Martha’s words, tries to make sense of the practically nonexistent sounds, if only for something to hold on to._

_Eliza looks up, startled, when she hears the police sirens a few minutes later. Thank God for panic buttons._

_A swat team is closing in on the bank, running up the steps to the door. Suddenly, the man not gathering the money is next to her. He pulls Martha to her feet, points his gun at her head and shouts, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot.”_

_The swat team stops its rapid advance, but one man doesn’t get the message fast enough, he’s looking down and doesn’t see what’s going on. He takes a few more steps before looking up and realizing the situation. The mistake takes all of a second to transpire, but it’s enough._

_Everything goes in slow motion for Eliza. Eliza watches the man’s eyes follow the movement of the swat team guy who didn’t hear the orders to stop. Eliza watches his face scrunch up in anger and frustration and indignation. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment of eternity where Eliza is genuinely not sure which way he’ll go, but Eliza watches the muscles in his fingers tense, pressing down on the trigger. Eliza watches blood splatter against her white coat. Eliza watches herself scream._

_No matter how much she tries, she can’t remember the next few minutes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the ending wasn't too upsetting for anyone. I've had most of this story planned since the beginning, and the gun legislation stuff that was briefly mentioned in an earlier chapter is going to be pretty important so it felt wrong to cut that whole part of their backstory. 
> 
> In any case, tell me what you think in the comments!


End file.
